Rising of the Sun
by AusisWinds-13
Summary: AU. After being mistaken for her cousin, Princess Naminé is kidnapped by a band of outlaws led by the mysterious Roxas Solis. She is soon thrown head first into a dangerous plot to overthrow the tyrant King in an attempt to bring peace to the Kingdom. While fighting to survive, Naminé finds herself being drawn to Roxas in ways she cannot even begin to explain.
1. Skin Deep

**Summary: **A few weeks away from her seventeenth birthday, Naminé, niece to the King of the Realm of Darkness, is kidnapped and taken hostage by a band of mysterious outlaws. With their plans to use her as a bargaining chip to save the life of a fellow bandit, she soon finds herself thrown head first into a world of piracy and secrets, where she ends up falling for the enigmatic Roxas, leader of the notorious Organization XIII.

**A/N: **Hello there! I'm back and I've got a new story for you all! This one's pretty special; it's dedicated to a dear friend of mine,_ SummonerDagger88_, who's been so awesome over the last few months. Thank you so much for all of your support and chats, you're awesome and I love you. Of course, I have plenty of other people I could thank, but they'll be receiving their own story at some point in the future — you know who you are!

This is going to be a lot different from some of my other stories; there are no high schools involved, for a start! I was kind of inspired to write in this kind of setting after reading _White Knight_ — a wonderful fic by _aradian nights._ If you haven't yet read it before, I seriously encourage you to take a look as it's pretty darn awesome!

Ahem. And now, without any further ado, I present to you _Rising of the Sun!_

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any Kingdom Hearts or Final Fantasy characters!

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**Chapter One :: Skin Deep**

Saïx stalked soundlessly towards his commander's tent, his strides long and purposeful. The news he bore was grave, very grave indeed and he knew that the young man would want to know of it straight away. It was indeed a matter of security which compelled him to take such swift actions, but it also concerned a certain renegade prince within their midst, who would not take too kindly to the news, especially as their own commander had been the one to set the mission which had catapulted his brother into the fray. His brow furrowed as he mulled over the information. It shouldn't have been possible, to have one of their own so easily captured by the enemy, but nevertheless it had come to pass and now there was next to nothing they could do to help him.

The man glanced up as a particular redhead danced into his path and was quick to offer him a curt nod before brushing past, but the younger man merely scurried after him, his lips set in his usual infuriating grin.

"Hey there, Saïx. Off to see the boss man?" He called teasingly, bumping the man's elbow with his own. When his friend remained silent yet visibly bristled from the brief contact, the redhead let out an exaggerated sigh and leapt in front of him, holding his hands out to stop him. "C'mon man, I only asked a question." His expression became mocking and light as he added meaningfully, "I see… Holding out on an old pal, are ya?"

The scarred man rolled his golden eyes and scowled at the boisterous redhead who didn't seem able to take a hint. "Hardly. I just do not see the need to speak with you. That is all." He purposefully side-stepped the man and continued on his way, calling over his shoulder in a flat tone, "However, if it is of any consolation, I am indeed going to see him."

"Say hi to him for me!" The redhead hollered, thankfully refraining from following him, for which Saïx was silently thankful. There were times when he could tolerate the tenacious man's presence to the point where he could even say he enjoyed the company, but today was not one of them. He had business to attend to and being distracted by the intolerable man was not on his agenda.

His thoughts suddenly drifted to the news he had yet to deliver to the young man in charge. He couldn't imagine that he would take to the information with much enthusiasm. After all; it was not every day one of their own people was captured. If he wasn't so loyal, he knew he would hesitate in reporting the news. He knew nothing good could come of it, but it was his duty as second in command to alert his boss of any changes to their war effort, and that included the status of prisoners.

Saïx paused in front of his commander's tent. He silently collected his thoughts and entered, pushing the offending flap aside without any form of announcement. He watched with his cool, unblinking golden eyes as the young man turned around to look at him for a moment, a single eyebrow rising questioningly. They held each other's gaze for a moment longer before the young man turned back to the maps and other variety of documents spread out before him without saying anything to the intruder, scanning over a security report given to him by one of his subordinates.

Taking his silence as a cue to start taking, the golden eyed man moved further into the dimly lit area and folded his hands calmly behind his back. "Terra has failed." He declared monotonously, turning his gaze towards the interior of the extravagant tent. Several stolen tapestries, telling tales of great battles won and lost, lined the walls as well as the odd bear skin or sporting trophy. The furniture was made of the finest quality wood, polished and varnished until it shone in the light and was cushioned with soft velvet or silk fabrics to provide comfort. In the centre, a small hearth had been dug into the ground where a warm fire was burning, the smoke twirling up into the air and through a perfectly circular hole at the top of the tent. His leader, a man barely into his late teens, was sitting at a rich mahogany table, his head bent towards its surface. All that could be seen of him was his unusually spiky blond hair, partially covered by the large collar of his cloak hung heavily around his slender shoulders.

Becoming uncomfortable as the silence grew between them, Saïx shifted and cleared his throat. When the teenager continued to remain quiet despite the news and his attempts to elicit a response, the man added informatively, "He has been captured. Xehanort will have him executed soon, no doubt."

This seemed to get a rise out of the young man. The blond sat before the mahogany table tipped his head to the side and spoke, "So I have heard."

Every now and again, Saïx would almost forget that this man seated before him could still be considered a child. His voice was rich and silky, highlighted with husky undertones, lilted with a deeper, hidden pain only present in the most battle-hardened men. A woman might describe it as being the voice of an angel, but the golden eyed man knew better; his commander was cold-hearted, cruel and relentless. His words often held a crude bite to them and were exceedingly unforgiving. Though softly spoken, he was not a man to be underestimated or seen as inferior; he demanded the attention of all those who stood within his presence and commanded it effectively with the force of sheer brutality and ease. Saïx had learnt this swiftly during his stay under the boy's authority and had come to respect him as such. In some way, it could even be said that he admired the boy. His leadership rivalled even that of the Organization's previous leader, Zack.

The only issue he had with his current chief was his apparent inability to think things through. While he was capable of leading such a large and formidable group with the confidence of a man twice his age, his true youth often shone through when it came to making decisions which would directly affect him or his cause, specifically anything involving Xehanort. He would act rashly, choosing to rush in and ask questions later, often costing their group and others greatly.

He knew that the boy would react to Terra's kidnapping in the same fashion and was wary of provoking him into doing something stupid.

Although he was almost certain of the answer he was to receive, Saïx stepped around the fire and asked curtly, "What do you want us to do?"

The young man reached for the quill resting on the desk beside one of the pieces of parchment and picked it up, twirling it gracefully between his delicate fingers. "He won't be foolish enough as to leave him unguarded...so a rescue attempt would be out of the question." He murmured thoughtfully, leaning forwards slightly to dip the end of the quill into an inkwell. "No, I think we shall try something much bolder than that." He scribbled a quick note in the corner of the parchment spread out before him, the scratching halting suddenly as he half swivelled around in his chair to look up at his second in command, his blue eyes filled with cool authority. "What of the Princess? She arrived home safely, I take it?"

Unable to help himself, Saïx frowned slightly, his golden eyes flickering towards the man's hand poised over the old paper. "Yes, I believe so, sir." He declared quietly, wondering why his superior was asking such a question. Surely if he knew that Terra had failed that the princess would have returned to the castle?

"Excellent." The young blond chuckled harshly, dropping his quill and rising steadily to his feet, his broad shoulders flexing slightly. He cracked his knuckles reflexively and walked aimlessly towards one of the tapestries nearby, reaching a hand out to trace its unique markings. For a moment, he remained silent before adding, "Tell Axel and Larxene I wish to speak with them immediately."

Instead of bowing and leaving like he usually would, he brushed aside his superior's request and moved to stand closer to him, his arms crossing over his chest. "What are you planning?" He asked cautiously, watching the young man intensely, searching for clues. He knew he was up to something and whatever it was Saïx had deduced that it wasn't a good thing, for both him and the rest of their company.

Much to his surprise, the teenager let out a laugh and cocked his head to the side, a smirk spreading across his lips. "We're going to kidnap the princess and use her to save Terra. Not only that, but we can perhaps use her to take down her old man. It's not likely that Xehanort would sacrifice his own daughter, given his age and the fact that she is his only successor."

Saïx resisted the urge to sigh. He had been afraid of this.

"Sir, it is hopeless. Terra is lost." Saïx murmured, keeping his tone neutral and impassive. He knew that many of the men would agree with him; Terra could not be saved, not now that he was within Xehanort's heavy fortress. The only person to have penetrated its walls was the former leader of their group, Zack, who had retired and chosen to live the quiet life with his wife, Aerith. Of course, he still acted as a mercenary for hire, but his services were rarely required anymore. They had not heard from him in quite some time, although they assumed from this that he was well.

All of a sudden, the young man swiftly turned to Saïx, lifting a single perfect eyebrow. Despite the calm expression spread across his delicate features, his eyes were swirling with anger and his hands were clenched into tight fists by his sides. "You know I never leave a man behind, Saïx." He practically spat, "I refuse to leave anybody behind ever again. Not since my..." He broke off and whirled away, putting his back to Saïx. He had not meant to let that last bit slip. Nobody knew of his past, not even Axel, who knew a rather disturbing amount about him. No, he would not tell anybody, not even the man he trusted with his life. In an attempt to calm himself, he added quietly, "Besides, what would Riku think if he found out we weren't attempting to save him?"

Saïx resisted the urge to sigh for a second time. He wasn't at all shocked by the outburst. The young man quite frequently lost his temper and would rain his fury down upon anyone who so much as put a toe out of line. He was secretly glad to be alive. "I understand my liege. I am merely saying that perhaps you ought to think this through." He held his hands out in a placating gesture, his expression serious. "She is innocent in all this. She should not be involved, even if it _is_ Xehanort."

The blond shook his head once, crossing his own arms and tensing his shoulders. "No." He replied stonily, his voice filled with barely contained anger. "This will be done. We want to bring Xehanort down. If it means we have to endanger the innocent..." At this, he glanced over his shoulder and met Saïx's gaze with a cold, cruel stare. "Then so be it."

Saïx found his superior almost impossible to reason with when he was like this. He himself abhorred hurting the innocent. On usual occasions, so did his commander, but the boy was blinded by his hatred for Xehanort and would do almost anything to blast the man off the face of the earth, including harming an innocent child. Things were apparently a lot worse than he had first suspected.

"Roxas." When Saïx spoke his name for the first time, the blonde fully turned to face him, his lips setting in a steely line. The older man ignored his unnerving stare and crossed his arms in what he hoped to be an authoritative manner. He wouldn't stand for this. He couldn't. "You have been plagued with hate ever since Xehanort destroyed the lives of those people within that village, ever since that young girl died in your arms. You aren't thinking clearly." He stated calmly, his golden eyes narrowing.

"I know what I'm doing." Roxas snarled, pushing past him and exiting the tent without another word, his boots echoing as he stomped across the heavily trodden earth.

Saïx shook his head, his frown becoming more prominent. "I hope you're right..."

**····» **₪** «····**

The scorching sun backed against the deep marine sky bathed the grounds of the castle beneath its vast expanse in a warm, natural glow. The flowers were in full bloom, their vibrant petals turned towards the sky, soaking up the sun's rays, while the symmetric trees lining the neatly groomed courtyard swayed slightly in the summer breeze, wafting the fragrant smell of fresh pine across the elegantly presented garden.

In the very centre of the garden, beneath a particularly old pine tree, sat two young women. The smaller of the two, a pretty blonde in her mid-teens, was drawing contentedly in a pristine sketchpad, her pencil making soft scratches against the page. She glanced up, shivering slightly as the wind teased at her skirts and fanned against her stocking covered legs. While tucking a stubborn strand of hair behind her ear, she uncrossed her legs and stretched them out in front of her with a sigh of relief, her pencil falling from her dainty hand and onto the grass beside her. Her fingernails dug into the cuff of her arm length sleeves, keeping them from slipping down as she stretched her arms above her head, a cat-like yawn passing her lips.

The older of the two, a woman barely into her twenties with cropped, striking blue hair, looked up from the novel she had been immersed in to see what had been the cause of the disturbance and held back a disapproving frown as her wandering gaze landed on her small companion. She quickly noted the number of the page she was currently on before setting the book aside, folding her hands neatly in her lap as she addressed the younger girl, "Miss Naminé—if you continue to sit like that you'll ruin your dress." She patted a space on the patchwork spread she was sat on, smiling warmly. "Come and sit on the blanket, beside me."

The younger girl — Naminé — looked over at her maid, a teasing, carefree smile reaching her features. "Don't worry so, servant." She declared haughtily, reaching out and splaying her fingers through the long grass tickling at her exposed calves. "It's such a silly thing to get upset about." She continued with a defiant shake of her head, "My Uncle will buy me another if this one gets dirty."

The young woman looked around worriedly and bit at her lip, her voice lowering to a whisper, "That may be, Miss, but his Majesty does not take pleasure in spending his money on more of your dresses when there are more important things at hand — like the war." When Naminé started squirming, the material of her dress rubbing against the earth beneath her, the blue haired maid panicked, flapping a hand at the young girl, "Please, Miss. You are wearing white. The stains will never come out." And still, her mistress did not listen. The maid was becoming desperate. In a last attempt to convince the girl to salvage her dress, the woman indicated to one of the many stone benches situated around the edges of the courtyard, stating weakly, "Could you not at least seat yourself on one of the benches while you draw?"

Naminé lifted her chin arrogantly, looking down her nose at the floundering woman. "They do not provide quite the same view of the gardens as opposed to down here." She snapped, her small fingers curling protectively around the edge of her sketchpad. When the young maid flinched away, the girl smirked triumphantly and tossed her head. She turned her face away from the woman, scanning the area before her in an almost bored manner, "It's quite a spectacular sight, isn't it?"

"Very much so, Miss." The older woman whispered as she bowed her head, clutching a hand to her chest, not wanting to anger the young princess any further.

The blonde retrieved her pencil from the ground beside her and resumed drawing the wondrous scene before her. As if a thought had suddenly occurred to her, she paused and tipped her head to the side, her expression genuinely curious as she asked lightly, "How long do you suppose this 'war' between my Uncle and these barbarians will last?"

The maidservant glanced over at the young girl, feeling her brow furrow. This was not the first time in which Naminé had taken quite an obvious interest in the war between those residing in the three Realms of the Kingdom of Trinitas. If asked herself, she would deny that she had ever thought about it, when in reality she found herself worrying about it constantly. If the war were to be won by the rebellion, how would it affect her? How would it affect the Kingdom and, in turn, those she held dear? Given the chance, she would take the young princess and the few friends she had and flee — she didn't trust Xehanort and she certainly didn't view herself as on 'his side'.

"I can't say, Miss. The war has been going on for a very long time. Neither side seem close to victory, even though some would say otherwise." The young woman refrained from using names. She did not know if the young girl would turn her into the King and have her beheaded — she'd seen it happen to many servants before and she did not take comfort in the thought of being one of those in line.

The blonde sighed and gathered up her things before springing to her feet, a bright smile now occupying her face as she drew her sketchpad to her chest, "No matter. I guess it will be over when it's over." She tossed her maid a glance as she began to walk back towards the castle wall, her strides small and delicate, almost as though she were stepping on air. "We'll be heading inside now, Aqua, I'm tired of drawing. Hurry up."

Aqua hastily scrambled for the items she had brought outside with her, tucking them firmly beneath her arms as she scurried after her young mistress, her cheeks flaming. "Of course, Miss Naminé."

The young girl giggled, twirling on her heel and facing the woman hurrying after her, her cerulean eyes darting this way and that as they passed another bed of brightly coloured flowers. "It is going to be such a wonderful summer, I can feel it. Why, the sun is shining, the flowers are in bloom and the sky... Oh, the sky..." She tilted her head back, her entire face shining with happiness, "It is so beautiful, don't you agree?"

Startled, the blue haired maiden dipped her head in agreement. It was quite a rare sight to see her mistress to blatantly overjoyed. She wished the girl would show her smile more often — she was very attractive as it was, but that smile really brought out the cerulean blue of her eyes and seemed to radiate happiness from her entire being. "I... Yes, Miss Naminé, I believe it will." Shyly, Aqua added in a hopeful voice, "Perhaps you will even get to travel down to the beach this year. I remember how badly you wished to visit last summer."

Of course, after saying this, Aqua realised her mistake, but it was too late to take back her words. Naminé's face darkened and she whirled away, her carefree manner vanishing. "No. I was childish to ever think that I would be allowed to leave the castle. Xehanort will never allow it. Never…" Her voice had lowered to a whisper by this point and Aqua found herself wanting to comfort the young princess, but the glare the girl shot over her shoulder was full of malice and hatred, enough to stop the maid in her tracks. Naminé's nose wrinkled with obvious disdain, "In the future, don't say such stupid things, maidservant, for I would hate for something bad to happen to you."

The woman took a step back, her face paling. She would often forget how quickly her moods would change. The girl could be quite malicious when she pleased and often threatened her when she said something Naminé considered wrong or when she spoke out of turn. Admittedly, her unpredictable manner was often very hard to discern, meaning that Aqua was constantly on edge around her, but over the years she had grown used to this. Every now and again she would make a slight slip up, but nothing could be done about it. She was only human after all — she was as prone to mistakes as much as the next person. However, her mistress didn't seem to understand this nor tolerate it.

Aqua swallowed heavily, trying to calm the erratic beating of her heart. "Of course, Miss Naminé." She whispered, her eyes automatically clenching shut at the thought of something terrible happening to her. "Forgive me..."

"Just remember your place." Naminé barked unkindly, her lip curving into a sneer as they reached the large wooden door which would lead to one of the many corridors of the immense castle. "You may leave me here, servant. Come for me before dinner, I wish to change." The blonde shot her one last glare before disappearing through the door and swerving to the left, most likely heading back to her quarters up in the west tower.

Aqua had noticed with some curiosity that she rarely left her room anymore. If she wasn't in her room, she could most likely be found outside or in the library, submerged in an array of books she found interesting or mind-expanding. It was a shame that the girl had no friends and knew so little of the outside world.

For a strange reason which Aqua had yet to fully comprehend, Master Xehanort had forbidden Naminé from ever leaving the castle shortly after she arrived, claiming that she was much too frail and delicate to be allowed outside of the safety of the walls. It didn't, therefore, make much sense that his daughter, the sole heir to the throne, was allowed outside whenever she demanded. She decided not to dwell on it. The Master clearly had his reasons for doing what he did, although she did not quite agree with his brusque, cruel methods.

Aqua sighed and entered through the door after her mistress, instead turning right, heading towards the kitchen in search of some comfort during her frustration. For some reason, she chose to glance over her shoulder. Her eyes immediately landed on the young blonde's form as she flounced down the hallway, her sketchpad clutched to her tiny chest, her feet making loud slapping noises on the tiled floor. Behind all of the harsh bravado and temper tantrums, the girl was hiding the loneliness which had plagued her since she first arrived. That didn't make her sudden change in emotion any easier for her to bear. The blue haired maiden looked away, wincing.

Fortunately for her, she had long since grown accustomed to the girl's strange mood swings, but there were times when her evil tendencies still managed to surprise her. While she often chided herself for thinking such awful thoughts about the girl she had been serving since she was only ten years old, it was true to say that her mistress could quite often act very cruelly to those around her. However, when she was in one of her rare good moods, she was a pleasant young woman to be around. Aqua even thought that the two of them could one day become friends, but soon dismissed the notion after she realised how bipolar the young princess could be. Besides, she had pushed away all of her attempts, claiming not to need anyone other than herself.

Despite this, Aqua couldn't help but feel sorry for the girl. When she was very young, she lost both of her parents — King Ansem and Queen Lillian of the Enlightened Realm — to a dreadful fire which destroyed her entire home. She had somehow escaped the terrifying blaze with her life and was quickly adopted by her father's brother, Xehanort. Not long after, the war had escalated when the King of the Realm Between, Eraqus, requested the lands of their fallen brother be given to him. A bloody battle consumed the lands but Xehanort eventually conceded to his younger brother and allowed him access to the Realm. Aqua strongly suspected he had his reasons for so willingly giving up that which he could have easily taken.

While Xehanort was fighting his brother, the young Miss Naminé was granted a home within his castle walls. However, the girl was treated as though she were nothing but an annoying disease — nobody but the servants went near her, not even her own cousin, Xion, daughter of the King, and that was only if she could help it. And so, the girl had grown up alone in a world where nobody truly loved her, with no friends but the books and drawings she kept in her room. She wished she could befriend the girl, but she made things so difficult.

Before Aqua had been appointed to serve her, the other servants often spoke badly of her, calling her a freak and at times even a witch. She would apparently cast cruel, twisted spells on anybody who so much as looked at her in the wrong way, deforming the face beyond recognition. And that wasn't the worst of it. According to the extremely tall tales, the girl even kept a jar of people's hair beneath her bed, for the voodoo dolls she had locked away in one of her bedside drawers, in case she needed to curse anyone. Some people even claimed to have been 'zapped' by the young princess while passing in the halls. This was all lies, of course, but by the time she came to serve the girl, her head was filled with the many tall tales she had been told, that she was absolutely terrified of the orphaned princess.

She remembered thinking that Naminé would cast a spell on her, causing her to vomit slugs for weeks, or that she would possess her with some form of dark magic, but she couldn't have been further from the truth. While she had an extremely cold exterior and a barrier very few took the time to break down, she was actually quite a sweet, if not misunderstood, girl with trouble connecting with those around her.

Now she thought about it, she had been serving Princess Naminé for a total of eleven years and she had to admit that not one day of it had been plain sailing. Aqua had come close to losing her head on several occasions due to silly mistakes, but she always came out of it on top in the end, thanks to a stroke of luck or boredom on her mistress' part. It was strange, because Naminé would often talk about having her killed for doing something wrong or for speaking out of turn, but Aqua knew deep down that the girl relied heavily upon her and would be sad to see her go. That didn't mean she was indispensable though; she knew that she would one day outgrow her purpose as servant to the little princess, but as to what would happen to her afterwards was a mystery. Maybe Naminé would be merciful and allow her to live... Either that or she would lose her head in an instant. It all came down to what that one girl decided. Aqua didn't favour the odds and so, decided to do all she could to accommodate the princess. If she could improve her stay in the castle in anyway, then she would do it.

During her particularly more difficult moments with the young girl, she would always find solace within a fellow servant, Ventus, who was a year older than Naminé and four years younger than herself. Even after going through hell himself, the boy still somehow managed to keep a smile on his face and was able to cheer her up even in her darkest hour. To others, he was just a mere kitchen boy who sometimes performed duties for Miss Xion, heir to the throne, but to her, he was dear friend whom she couldn't live without. She treasured him dearly and relied on his impressive stories to get her through the day. He spoke often of Xion and the odd jobs he was given, which never failed to make her smile, despite her wariness towards the young princess.

Xion, or so she was told, was even worse than Naminé when it came to mood swings, although Ventus never spoke an ill word of her. He would in fact praise her and speak very highly of her, explaining how kind she could be when she wasn't yelling at him for something that was 'quite clearly his fault'. Whenever Aqua asked if the princess hurt him, he would laugh and shrug it off as if it were nothing and quickly change the subject. But his silence always gave her the answer she needed; yes, the girl did hurt him, but Ven was too loyal or simply too kind-hearted to admit it. Some considered him crazy for always wanting to see the good in people, but she considered it both a blessing and a curse. There weren't many people like that in the world nowadays and Aqua would quite often bask in his curious innocence; it was refreshing. She knew that one day it would come back around to bite him, but she swore that would be there for him when it did, protecting him until she drew her last breath.

By the time Aqua entered the kitchen, it was well past noon. She went straight over to a table in the corner of the room and sat down, dumping her items from earlier in one of the nearby chairs before craning her neck in search of her dearest friend. She soon noticed his windswept blond hair in the sea of swarming people and held back a smile. He was at the other end of a line of stoves, his face beaded with sweat as he scraped a layer of grime from its grill. He plopped the filth into a nearby bucket and leaned back, wiping the back of his hand across his forehead before glancing over and noticing her sitting in the corner. His azure eyes immediately brightened and he dropped the spatula onto a nearby surface, much to the dismay of a maid who was cutting up carrots for this evening's meal, before sauntering over to her, a grin perched on his lips.

"Aqua!" He chorused as he neared the table, throwing his hands skyward in his excitement, "You're here earlier than I expected! How's your day been so far? You look stressed! Perhaps you should take a break?"

Aqua laughed at his mindless chatter, watching him intently as he flopped down into the chair opposite her, the giddy expression never leaving his face. She felt herself immediately relax in his presence, knowing that she wouldn't have to worry about treading on eggshells around him. Very few things could irk the blond, she had learned. She smiled faintly to herself. Aqua was grateful to have someone like Ven in her life.

"Everything's fine. I admit that Naminé's being a handful, as usual, but apart from that it's been quite an enjoyable day." She paused and looked him over, noticing the streak of dirt trailing down his cheek. She frowned and reached out, wiping it away with her sleeve. "You're a mess, Ven! What have you been doing? Mucking out the horses?"

He grinned and swatted her hand away playfully, "Not exactly. I had to clean the chimney in Miss Xion's room this morning, in preparation for her return." Only then did his smile slip a little, a slight pout forming on his face, "And afterwards they made me clean the stoves…now that was not fun. I'm still nowhere near finished and they expect me to get it done before this evening!"

She watched him in silence for a moment, noticing the dark circles under his usually bright eyes. They seemed to be working him a lot harder than normal and that worried her; he was only a boy and there was only so much he could take. She curled her fingers into her palms and gritted her teeth. She wished, above all else, that she could reduce his workload. She hated seeing him so exhausted. Instead of mentioning his apparent tiredness, however, she chose to focus on something else before she lost her head over it.

"I see. So Miss Xion will be returning soon... Miss Naminé won't be happy about that." She murmured curtly, already imagining the headache she was going to receive when she ended up delivering the news to the impatient blond. "It sounds like you've had a pretty tiring day so far..." Her eyebrows knitted into a frown as she noticed Ven's head loll to the side. "Ven, you don't look so good. I can help, if you'd like…?" She reached out and rested her hand on his shoulder meaningfully.

Suddenly, his playfulness vanished as he reached up and placed a hand over hers. "No need, Aqua. Don't waste your energy on me. It's like this every day." Ven leaned back again and folded his arms behind his head, his eyes closing automatically. "Let's not focus on me." He cracked open one eye and looked across at her, his eyebrows rising slightly, "What's this about Naminé, huh? Has she been giving you a hard time?"

She was still worried by the serious expression which had appeared on his face after she mentioned healing him. He had been acting like that a lot lately, especially after he discovered that she could use magic. It was almost as though he was afraid that someone would overhear them and take her away to Xehanort to be executed. Everyone within the kingdom knew that magic was forbidden. People were killed for it, sometimes even burned at the stake if one committed a heinous act. However, if their talents proved to be particularly unique, Xehanort would often torture the subject to gain information about the magic they possessed before finally killing them.

It bothered her that Ven was trying to protect her. She didn't like it.

Aqua shook herself free of her depressing thoughts, remembering that he had asked her a question before and stammering quickly, "No, no. Not at all, it's nothing like that. She was just being...her usual difficult self." Aqua puffed out her cheeks and leaned her chin into her palm, her eyes narrowing. "Sometimes her moods are so hard to keep up with — one second she's all happy and carefree and in the next it's like she wants to kill me with her bare hands."

"I wouldn't be surprised if she does." Ven mused absentmindedly to himself. When Aqua shot him a displeased look, he raised his hands apologetically, his grin becoming sheepish. "What? It's true. I've seen the look she gives you sometimes. It is pretty creepy."

The young woman lifted her head and dropped her hand into her lap, letting out an exasperated sigh. "Yeah, I suppose you're right." She frowned, wishing she could at least understand why Naminé acted the way she did. "I just wish she didn't have to be so...so..."

"Freaky?" Ven supplied offhandedly with a flick of his hand, his expression signifying that he was dead serious with his suggestion. While she knew that while he didn't believe in the superstitious stories which were flung around about the girl, he still had the sense to be frightened of her and steered clear of the young blonde, for which she was grateful. She didn't know if she could protect Ven from the wrath of the scorned Princess as well.

Aqua laughed at this and shook her head out of amusement. "I was actually going for difficult."

"Oh. Difficult." He looked baffled as he scratched at the back of his head, his nose wrinkling as he mulled it over in his mind. After a while he shrugged dismissively. "I guess that works too. Although I wouldn't know; I haven't had to deal with her. I just know what you and the others tell me!" He declared simply, a large grin appearing on his face, almost distracting her from the fact that his eyes didn't seem as bright as they usually were. Almost.

Her hands twitched by her sides. She wanted so badly to relieve his stress, to heal him of his aches and pains but she knew he wasn't having any of it. To stop herself from giving into her urges, she tucked her hands beneath her thighs.

"Ventus! Get back to work! Stop slacking off or I'll have your hide!" A loud voice barked from the other end of the kitchen.

The two of them looked up, their expressions surprised, before the young blond sprung to his feet and raked a hand through his unruly hair. "Oops... I didn't think he'd catch onto me so quickly. I've gotta go Aqua!" He cast a sympathetic glance in her direction as he dashed away before his superior punished him for slacking off. "Hang in there and I'll see you tonight!" He called back with a slight grin.

She waited until he disappeared into the midst of people bustling about the kitchen, a wistful smile reaching her lips, before lowering her gaze to her thighs. Slowly, she pulled her hands out and folded them on top of her small knees.

She couldn't shake the feeling that something was up with him; she could see it in the way he acted. While on the outside he was still the same old Ven, there was something not quite right. For starters, his eyes lacked their usual exuberance, his normally well-defined hair appeared scruffy and unkempt and he looked absolutely exhausted. She had a sneaking suspicion that it wasn't just because of work, but she couldn't think of what else could be bothering him and she would never know if he didn't open up to her. Aqua didn't know what was going on, but she was determined to keep an eye on him and make sure nothing bad happened.

She turned in her chair to watch him as he retrieved the spatula from where he'd left it and went back to scraping the stoves, his forehead already beaded with sweat. After a moment, he slumped forward, a frown creasing his normally smooth brow. She needed to do something for him. She simply couldn't let him go on like this.

Aqua knitted her eyebrows together and discreetly extended her hand towards him, murmuring a soft incantation under her breath. Her fingertips glowed light green for a moment before shooting towards the blond hunched over the gruelling stoves and encasing his exhausted body. A smile appeared on her face as Ven straightened hurriedly, his lips parting with shock as he examined the green tint to his skin. He immediately found her gaze, his expression showing a hint of disapproval, but his eyes shone with unspoken gratitude.

She dipped her head and swivelled back around, leaning her chin into her palm, still smiling to herself.

Little did she know, a figure watched her fixedly from the shadows, a tiny smirk tugging at the corner of their lips hidden behind a mirrored helmet as they backed into the wall and melted out of sight.

**····» **₪** «····**

Naminé despised her room.

It was not the layout which displeased her, nor the way in which it was decorated; but in where it was situated. Instead of overlooking the courtyard much like she would have preferred, her room faced out towards the rest of the kingdom, providing her with the view of a vast area of beautiful looking landscape she would never be able to step foot into. It was cruel and somewhat taunting, she often thought, to place her in a room where she could almost taste the freedom she yearned for, yet keeping her locked far away from it.

The young girl glared openly at the world spread out invitingly before her, just on the other side of a measly pane of glass, and turned away, disgusted. It was unfair that her cousin, who was sole heir to the throne and an entire year younger than her, was allowed to venture outside of the castle walls with nobody but a small group of guards to escort her to wherever she wanted to go. She would often disappear to unknown places for days on end, only to come home and brag about her adventures until Naminé wanted to drive a fork through the pathetic girl's eye.

The one thing she wanted above all else was adventure and excitement and freedom. Of course, Xion knew this, which was why she acted so arrogant around her, but Naminé had learned to ignore her and let her say what she wanted. If she didn't, she would end up going stir crazy. The whole time her cousin was gallivanting around the country, she was stuck within the walls of the cold stone castle belonging to her Uncle, who was reluctant to even so much as let her out of his sight. To this day, she still failed to understand why the King refused to let her outside of the castle walls. Her lacklustre life was slowly beginning to suffocate her, but he didn't seem to care.

Naminé flopped down onto her bed face first in the most unladylike fashion and buried her face in her velvet pillows. If there were one thing in the world she could wish for and have that wish granted, it would be for her to embark on an adventure in the outside world, with nobody but herself for company. But alas, her prayers had yet to be answered.

She remembered the days before Xehanort, before the fire and before she lost herself to the person she was now, when her parents were still alive and her life was oh-so perfect. Not only did she have everything she could have ever wished for, but she was also surrounded by people who loved and adored her, doting on her every word or action. She remembered how her parents had shown her off to the kingdom, their faces gleaming with pride as people from all over the world travelled to the Enlightened Realm...just to see her! She could still remember their laughing faces when she tugged a little too hard on a poor man's beard, enough to make him yelp, and the way they had pried her hands away, cooing at her.

And then...everything suddenly changed.

A fire engulfed the castle on the night of October 5th, a mere few weeks before her sixth birthday, destroying everything she had ever known. Her parents, her friends and her servants perished in that fire; everyone did…everyone but her. That one night was forever scarred into her mind, reminding her of her own helplessness; she hadn't been able to save her parents. She had barely managed to save herself. The burns she had received had been near fatal. If it hadn't been for that one boy who had hauled her from the flaming debris and dragged her to the nearest healer, she was sure that she would have died, too.

Above all else, that was the one memory which had stuck into her mind until this very day; the one of the boy who had saved her life that night. He hadn't been much older than her, she remembered, and he had appeared out of nowhere, surrounded by smoke and ash, telling her everything was going to be okay before grabbing her arms and throwing them over his shoulders. He then proceeded to pull her from the flames, taking her far away from the castle which continued to burn and roar, sending embers up into the night sky.

By the time they arrived at the nearest town, she had passed out, the pain of her injuries becoming too much. He was nowhere to be seen when she awoke the next morning, almost like he had vanished without a trace. She had asked and asked about him until she felt sick to the stomach, but the townsfolk said that he must have disappeared during the night, while they were treating her. Not long after, her Uncle came for her and took her away to live with him in his castle on the other side of the Realm and she soon forgot about the mysterious boy. Of course, she knew that a boy had rescued her from the flames, but his face was nothing but a blur to her know, locked within her own unconscious mind.

While this would infuriate others, Naminé had soon learned just to let it go. It was too traumatic to try and remember his face, anyway.

Slowly, still caught within the cruel web of nostalgia, Naminé flipped onto her back and threw her hands towards the ceiling, gazing tiredly at the long sleeves which covered her milky skin. She knew that if she pushed them back, she would see the brutally twisted, bright pink scar tissue stained across her tiny arms. The burns she had received on that dreadful night; the very burns serving as a painful reminder of her horrible past, but also of her parents and what her life used to be like. Even beneath the terror, there was still beauty, she realised. Her mother would have been proud to hear her think like that.

With a soft sigh, she dropped her arms back to her sides and stared up at the intricate ceiling above her, not caring if she crumpled her already dirtied dress. She continued to stare vacantly up at the interesting patterns winding across the ceiling of her room until the sound of horses hooves attracted her attention back to the window. She leapt to her feet with the grace of a cat and hurried cautiously over to her window seat, peering past the heavy drapes to see what — or more appropriately, who — was drawing near to the castle.

King Xehanort's standard sat atop a rather grand looking carriage, which was being pulled by two magnificent black horses, their bridles clinking with every shuddering step they took. They slowed into a walking trot as the gates opened in welcome, allowing them access to the prison-like castle.

Naminé watched on silently as the carriage disappeared underneath the portcullis before falling gracefully against the mound of pillows she had piled on her window seat, a frown etched across her delicate features.

She had a feeling she knew who would be sitting in that posh little carriage and the thought didn't exactly bring her much joy. If her cousin had indeed returned from her trip in the north, then things were about to get very complicated for her, not to mention somewhat annoying. Her cousin was a spoilt, snotty brat, worse even than herself, which was an immense achievement by any standards, she had to admit. It wasn't her presence which annoyed her, per se, but her general manner and the way in which she reacted to others. She would walk around with a permanent scowl on her face, throwing fits whenever she didn't get her way or when somebody said the wrong thing. Her part-time servant, a young boy who was quite close with Naminé's own maid, almost always seemed to suffer from the brunt of the teenager's rage. While she herself might often find servants being punished quite an amusing thing, there was something about this boy getting hurt which made her stomach churn. This was partly why Naminé allowed Aqua so much time off whenever Xion happened to be around. She knew that the woman cared deeply for the boy's well-being and hated to see him hurt. She also knew that she would do anything to protect him, even if her own life were at risk.

Foolish little Aqua.

She didn't understand it herself; why would somebody emotionally attach oneself to another person on such a significant and personal level? While she may have been that way inclined when she lived with her parents, things were different now and she had long since learned not to let her feelings get in the way. Xehanort had drummed that into her not long after she moved in.

In some ways, she sorely missed the carefree, good old days...

At this, Naminé's gaze fell back to her covered arms. Beneath those sleeves lay the past she had been trying to forget, trying to run from for years. Slowly and deliberately, she began to peel the material away from her flesh, staring blankly at her skin as it changed from pearly white to a harsh pink. Once she had rolled her sleeves up to her elbows, she held her arms out in front of her and observed the scars which criss-crossed her the surface of her skin. She reached a hand out to trace them, but jerked away when somebody knocked at her door.

"Miss Naminé?"

It was Aqua.

The girl hurriedly began to yank her sleeves back over her stained skin, desperate to cover the untold horror covering her arms, while keeping her eyes trained on the door. How stupid of her to display her scars so freely, especially when anybody could walk into her room at any given moment. Xehanort was the only person who had physically seen them, although Aqua had been told about them. Naminé had always refused to allow the girl to bathe her, or forced her to close her eyes when the woman became particularly insistent. She had yet to see them and Naminé wanted to keep it that way for as long as she could manage. If Aqua were to see them, it would be humiliating for she was the only person to actually tolerate her presence. If she saw them, she would surely treat her differently and that was the last thing she wanted.

Aqua's voice came again, filled with worry this time, "Miss Naminé? Are you alright?"

She should take care to lock the door next time. Or better yet, not look at her scars at all and then maybe she wouldn't find herself in such desperate situations.

"I'm fine." The blonde growled in response, struggling to keep her voice even. She fussed with her skirts for a moment before sitting a little straighter and tilting her chin up. "You may enter, servant."

Uncertainly, Aqua slid into the room and closed the door behind her, a peculiar looking piece of material folded over one of her arms. She immediately looked towards the blonde expectantly, waiting for permission to speak.

In a bored manner, Naminé ran her eyes over the woman. She was pretty, the girl realised. She had cropped blue hair which framed her delicate heart-shaped face and made her bright sapphire eyes stand out even more. Her lips were small but full and rosy in colour. Her breasts, which were clearly visible even beneath the baggy dress she was wearing — much to the delight of the male servant population, she was sure — were shapely to the point where they were considered voluptuous. Her dress, despite this, was that of the attire of all of the other servants in the castle; black and simple, gathering around the waist before falling loosely, reaching to the floor and cut around the base of her neck. The sleeves reached her elbows and puffed out slightly, with silly looking frills lining the edges.

Aqua fidgeted under her intense gaze, which brought Naminé's eyes flying back to her face. For a long time, the girl merely stared at her from underneath hooded eyes before turning away and waving a tired hand at the woman.

Only after a moment's hesitation did the servant speak again, her voice quiet and subdued, "His Majesty has demanded your presence at dinner this evening."

Naminé felt her eyebrows rise up into her hairline at this. He 'demanded' her presence, did he? He clearly wasn't the type to ask for anything nicely, but she couldn't really say that she was surprised. With a sigh, the girl rose to her feet and began walking slowly around her room, trailing her fingers across the many pictures she had nailed to her wall. "The occasion?" She asked blankly, knowing full well what Aqua would say before even opening her pretty little mouth.

"His daughter has arrived home from her journey across the country earlier this afternoon." The young woman replied softly as she continued to hover by the door, watching the girl walk in circles around her large room, most likely gauging her reaction to the news.

The blonde came to a halt in front of one of her earlier drawings and sighed heavily, feeling as though she had just aged a significant amount of years. "Just as I suspected. And I had been hoping that it would be a messenger announcing her untimely demise at the hands of a mob of some kind." She muttered morbidly, glancing up when she heard Aqua gasp. What? Didn't she like the sound of her musing over the possibility of her cousin's death? It wasn't as bad as what she usually thought, in any case. She would often revel in the thought of scraping the girl's pretty blue eyes out with a spoon. Naminé tossed the servant an amused glance before turning back towards the wall, her expression becoming thoughtful as the gazes up at the scruffy drawing in front of her. "Oh alright. I shall attend dinner, but do not expect me to stay very long. I do not enjoy her presence any less than I do his."

Aqua bowed her head respectfully, keeping her eyes downcast, "Of course, Miss Naminé." She peeked curiously up through her bangs at the young girl suddenly, her voice softening with kindness, "Should I have a bath ready for when you return?"

At this, Naminé clapped her hands together and twirled towards the young woman, her lips turning up into a beaming smile. "Yes Aqua, that would be most wonderful." She declared gleefully, stopping a few meters away from the maid. "Is that all?" She looked pointedly between Aqua and the red material folded over her arm.

Aqua jumped and gestured to the material with her free hand, her cheeks flushing slightly, "Oh, his Majesty wanted me to give you this." She offered her arm out to the girl, waiting for her to take the item.

Curious, Naminé reached out and lifted it up, watching with delight as the deep red satin shimmered beneath her touch. "What is it?" She asked breathlessly, her eyes drawn to every crease and flutter of the material as it moved freely in her hands.

"A new dress." Upon seeing the joyful expression on the young girl's face, Aqua felt her own lips tug into a delighted smile. Nothing pleased her more than being able to make her mistress happy. It was rare but beautiful sight, she thought, to see such a smile on the girl's face. She beamed and added thoughtfully, "I do believe that it is for you to wear to dinner this evening. It's quite beautiful."

Naminé was too awestruck by the dress' beauty to be brought down by the reason Aqua had given and began to spin on the spot, holding the dress against her. She watched on, fascinated, as the skirts fanned out and seemed to glow, like tiny embers with each movement she made.

And all too soon, the pleasant fantasy she had immersed herself in shattered.

Embers... Fire... Burning... Her hands jerked, the material slipping through her fingers slightly. Now she knew why he had given her this dress.

"Another one? My, my..." She murmured detachedly, holding the thing out at arm's length, wishing she didn't find it so repulsing now she knew the reason behind the colour. It really was quite pretty, which was a shame... "He is most certainly spoiling me, is he not?" She tried not to sound so hateful towards the old man, but it was hard and she was certain that her servant had picked up on it. Of course she had. Aqua could sense her emotions just like animals could sense a storm before it happened.

Noticing the sudden change in her mood, Aqua's smile faded and she quickly clasped her hands together, waiting for some form of outburst. "Will that be all Miss?" She asked curtly, keeping her eyes focused on the ground by her feet.

Naminé folded the dreadful thing over her arm and nodded, "Yes, I believe so. Thank you for informing me." She turned away and headed towards the corner of her room where a small screen stood, throwing a glance over her shoulder at the last second. "I do not need your assistance with changing this evening. You may leave now."

She found it amusing to watch Aqua literally turn tail and flee from her presence as soon as she gave the word, her hair flying wildly behind her. Silly, silly Aqua. She would never get it, but that wasn't her problem.

The blonde tossed her new dress over the top of the silk screen before stepping behind it and reaching back to unbutton her dress. It took her longer than it would have done if she had let Aqua help, but Naminé was in no mood to have the servant chatter away to her like she usually did every day.

She finally freed herself of the accursed thing and allowed it to tumble around her ankles, leaving her standing naked except for her stockings and pants. She grabbed at the dress dangling tauntingly in front of her and held it up to her with a slight sigh. It was another of Xehanort's cruel gestures, she was sure of it. Either that or he thought she might like the colour. Doubtful. He knew she despised anything that could be related with fire.

Ever since she had moved into his castle, the man had always taunted her; like one time he had order the chef to cook rabbit, knowing how much she hated the idea of the innocent little creature being roasted up and served to her on a silver platter. Xion and Xehanort had eaten it without fuss, but she had been sick for days, refusing to eat or drink anything until Aqua brought up her favourite hazelnut soup. Then there had been another time when Xehanort had forced her to sit nearest to the fireplace one evening when a King from a neighbouring Kingdom arrived. She had been a nervous wreck for the entire evening, freaking out over the smallest of flickers and had ended up breaking down in sobs by the time the man had left.

Each and every time, she could quite clearly recall the cruel, cold smirk on Xehanort's face as he watched her distress, not bothering to ask her if she was alright or offer her any kind of comfort. Aqua would always rescue her eventually, but each time she would be much too late; the damage had already been done. It was torture, but there was nothing she could do. It was only recently that Naminé had started to grow a backbone and defy him. Needless to say, he didn't like it, not one bit and his taunts began to escalate bit by bit.

Regardless of his reasoning and her resentment towards the colour choice, it was a new dress and she was going to make the most out of it. Cautiously, she stepped into the satiny material and buttoned herself up, albeit somewhat messily. When she turned to face the mirror behind her, she smiled at first, liking the way the material hugged her waist and billowed gracefully out to her ankles. It had a round neckline, stopping just short of revealing her collarbone and the bodice had a delicate swirled design across the front. But most of importantly, it had sleeves—

She jerked away. It had sleeves alright, sleeves which didn't quite cover her wrists.

"Oh no... No." Naminé suddenly choked, her hands rushing to cover her bare wrists. "No, no, no, no!" Much to her dismay, the beautiful lacy sleeves did not quite cover the scars on her wrists. Tears prickled in the corner of her vision, but she harshly wiped them away, her fingernails catching at her skin. She began pulling and tugging at the material above her wrists, but it would slip back up, revealing the mutilated skin and displaying it for the whole world to see.

Xehanort had not only chosen this dress to cause her distress through the use of the bright colour she related with fire, but to humiliate her, also.

This dress... It was a test. If she wore it, he would have the joy of watching her struggle to contain her anger all evening but if she wore a different one, he would know that she was afraid, a coward trapped within her own scarred body.

Naminé held back an angered noise mixed between a snarl and a sob.

What kind of monster was he?

**····» **₪** «····**

"I had such a wonderful time, father!" Xion gushed, her hands moving animatedly as she spoke, her eyes alight. Xehanort watched her with a bored expression on his face, his eyes flickering every so often to the door he was sitting opposite. Unaware of his disinterest, the girl continued chattering, "Truly, I have never seen such a beautiful place before! The sea was crystal clear, the sand was soft, the sky was bright and it was a simply lovely—"

The girl was cut off as the doors to the large hall were thrown open, slamming against the wall behind them, their hinges groaning under the strain. Naminé stood in the doorway, her head thrust up high, her eyes narrowed into slits as she surveyed the scene before her. Her two family members were seated at a long table which could easily fit forty people, its surface set with chandeliers, horrid looking plants in drab vases and the usual cutlery they had out every evening. Xehanort was facing the door, clearly awaiting her arrival if the look on his face was anything to go by. The blonde stiffened, her hands balling into fists by her sides. She wanted nothing more than to tear down one of the many swords nailed to the wall and run it through his chest. Maybe then he would stop staring at her as though she were his laboratory experiment.

She was wearing the dress Xehanort had oh-so kindly gifted her with, but a long, fluid cloak hung around her shoulders, cleverly concealing her wrists from view. She knew she wouldn't be able to get away with it for very long, but she didn't fancy being gawked at while walking around the castle. It was bad enough that the servants hovering by the head of the table were already following her every move with their deep set eyes, shrinking back from her as she boldly stepped forwards. She didn't even bother sparing them a glance, knowing what she would see in their gazes. They hated her enough as it was, if they caught wind of her scars, life would never be the same for her again. She couldn't even imagine how Aqua would react...

While Xion turned around in her seat to glower at her cousin, Xehanort smirked victoriously, his gaze travelling down her swathed form. "Ah, Naminé." He commented dryly, his haunting golden eyes slowly returning to her face, "I see you have decided to join us."

Naminé ignored him completely, turning her gaze towards the dark haired girl seated opposite her father, her expression tight. "I would say that it is good to see you, Xion, but quite frankly, that would be a terrible lie." When the girl let out a noise of protest, the blonde cut her off with a wave of her hand as she moved towards the table, choosing to sit as far away from the two as humanely possible.

One of the servants who had been standing by the table when she had entered rushed over and pulled out a chair for her, keeping their head bowed until she sat down on the plush cushioning. She tilted her head towards the boy and shot him a smile, but he was already scurrying away, his head ducked beneath the line of his shoulders.

The blonde's smile promptly fell and she begrudgingly turned her piercing gaze back to her cousin, who was still silently fuming at her comment. She smirked a little and shrugged in an offhanded manner, "And to think I had hoped you would have been kidnapped on your travels in the north. Shame."

Xion slammed her tiny fists against the table, making the plates and cutlery nearest to her rattle disconcertingly, just as Naminé had expected she would. "Father!" She yelped, her voice an entire octave higher than it usually was, her cheeks burning bright pink in colour with indignation, "You can't let her speak to me like that!"

Xehanort didn't seem all too concerned by his daughter's outburst as his eyes had not once left the blonde's face. After a moment longer of staring at his young niece, his lips lifted into a cruel smirk and he gestured to the cloak nestled around her shoulder. "Naminé. Take off that ridiculous thing right this instant."

Naminé's mouth twisted down into a defiant grimace and she sat a little straighter, her eyes hard and cold. "Would it really bother you if I kept it on?" She asked sweetly, her voice holding a deadly promise behind it. "I believe I may be coming down with something. It would be terribly unfair if I happened to pass it on to you. Besides, it is cold in here, why should I—"

All of a sudden, Xehanort rose from his chair, his decrepit form large and challenging. "The only thing catching in this room is your lack of manners, young lady." He pointed a crooked hand at her, his voice lowering to a quiet, angry growl. "You will remove that cloak this instance!"

She kept her hands firmly by her sides, staring up at him with a hate filled gaze. He stared right back, his golden eyes narrowing as he watched the conflicting emotions flit across her face. She saw no way out of this; if she didn't remove the cloak, he would only choose to humiliate her on another day, when she was least expecting it. She would have to take it off and then they would see... They would all see what haunted her behind closed doors and they would judge her terribly for it. This, she realised, was the ultimate humiliation, the final straw. This was the line that should never be crossed, but Xehanort was about to leap over it like a horse would a fence. She couldn't outright refuse his request; not without putting herself up for a flurry of questions she was not willing to answer. She had no other option. Slowly, with shaking hands, she reached up to untie the string holding up her cloak. With a soft rustle, the fabric fell away from her shoulders and pooled around her waist, leaving her defenceless to all of their intrusive glares.

She tried to tug her sleeves down, but she knew from previous experience that it was futile. After much wrestling, she gave up, her shoulders heaving. Hot tears stung her eyes, but she refused to let them fall, blinking rapidly to keep them at bay. She ground her teeth and fidgeted in her seat, keeping her eyes downcast, not wanting to see the horror in their gazes. It was only when her Uncle let out a small noise of triumph did she look up.

Xehanort's smirk widened into a full on triumphant grin as Naminé's scars became visible to all of those in the room. He sat back down, staring across at her silently, his gaze speaking a thousand cruel words. 'That's right,' His eyes said, 'You're mine, so learn your place.'

Naminé felt sick. She was tired of this old fool and his games. More than ever, she wanted so desperately to be free of the castle walls which had confined her for so long. Searching to take her mind off things, she grabbed the serviette sitting beside her plate and tucked it into the neckline of her dress, keeping her gaze trained firmly on the empty seat across from her as she waited for something to be said.

Xion, who had been wearing one of the most unattractive pouts up until now, was staring at her arms with a disgusting expression mixed between horror and fascination plastered across her face. "What happened?" She whispered, her eyes fixated on the pink welts marred into her skin

"The fire." Naminé replied bluntly, grabbing her fork and spearing a piece of steaming broccoli, not even bothering to attempt to hide her mutilated skin by this point. Even after answering her question, she could still feel Xion's gaze boring into the side of her face. She slammed her fork down and whirled on her cousin, her temper reaching boiling point, "What? Are my scars more interesting than your beloved trip all of a sudden? What on earth is your problem? Go on then! Talk! Talk like you always do!"

The girl's face flushed and she instantly ducked her head, keeping her lips sealed. She didn't say a word, but had the dignity to look scolded.

Naminé shoved her plate away and stood, grabbing her cloak and yanking it around her shoulders roughly. "I'm not hungry. I shall be retiring to my room to rest." She tossed a challenging glare in Xehanort's direction, but he continued to watch her with his owlish eyes, saying nothing to stop her.

She let out a disgusted noise and broke away from his evil stare, storming towards the door, not waiting for the servants to rush over and open it for her. Much to her surprise, before her fingers could come into contact with the brass handle, it gave way to her and swung outwards, revealing a surly looking guard kitted in full armour standing in the entrance. He glanced over her tiny form, barely even skimming her uncovered wrists before cautiously side-stepping her and entering the massive hall. "Master Xehanort, sir." He called gruffly, bowing lowly in the doorway.

Naminé backed out into the hallway, trying to get as far away from the massive, intimidating man as she could manage; meaning to hurry on back to her room where she hoped a bath was awaiting her.

"Ah, Lexaeus." Xehanort replied in his usual gravelly tone. "You have tracked down the man who attacked my daughter's convoy, I trust?"

The blonde came up short, her hand shooting out to the nearby wall to support herself. A servant whom had been walking by suddenly increased their pace, keeping their heads ducked behind the pile of laundry they were carrying, but Naminé was too absorbed in Xehanort's conversation to even bother noting the woman's amusing reaction. She turned back towards the dining hall, curling a hand around the doorframe as her cousin spoke.

"You caught the man who tried to have me killed?" Xion whispered in a small voice filled with awe.

Naminé stifled an unattractive snort, her hand gripping at the wood. She was surprised that somebody hadn't already attempted to kill the precious little princess in her sleep. Lord knows how much she'd wanted to when she was a lot younger, but Aqua had always been there to undermine her well thought out plans. Xion, although younger than her, was as bad as Xehanort; she had taunted her throughout her entire stay here, sneering cruelly at her or laughing at her when she fell over. Over time, Naminé's shell hardened and she stopped smiling around them, wishing to defend herself from the evilness that was her estranged family. She didn't understand how one person could hate her so much.

"Indeed we did, ma'am." Lexaeus growled in his deep, gruff voice, "We have detained him. Dilan and I will be escorting him down to the cells at once."

"Excellent work, Lexaeus." Xehanort applauded, morbidly delighted by the news. "I congratulate you once again on your swift actions." The man paused and chuckled suddenly, the very sound sending cold shivers down her spine. "I shall have him executed tomorrow at noon in front of the whole kingdom for his crimes."

She began to back away, having decided that she had heard enough. Naminé felt pity towards the man as the execution was mentioned. She personally had never had the stomach for Xehanort's degrading public "gatherings", as he so liked to call them. It was not the actual deaths of the citizens which made her insides squirm, but the way in which he would have them tortured and humiliated before granting them the mercy of death on swift wings. It was brutal and downright disgusting, but it was not her place to speak out about such things and so, she was forced to watch as the citizen pleaded for their life, only to have it so cruelly taken away from them. She could only pray that the man's death came to him a lot quicker than some of the others.

All of a sudden, a hand landed on her shoulder, causing the young girl to whirl around out of surprise, a strangled gasp slipping past her lips. She prepared to scream out for help, but it promptly died in her throat when she saw that it was only Aqua, wearing a strangely concerned expression. She relaxed slightly. "My lady? When you did not return, I came searching..." The young woman trailed off, her eyes widening as her gaze landed on the girl's naked wrists.

Naminé inwardly cursed and hid her arms behind the cloak, but the damage had already been done.

The young woman reached for Naminé's arms, her expression appalled. "Miss, your arms..." The girl resisted, holding her wrists closer to her chest, well out of the servants reach. Aqua's eyebrows furrowed into a frown, her hand hovering in front of the young girl. "You've hurt yourself. Please, Miss... Let me help you!"

Her obvious concern annoyed the girl. It wasn't her job to dote over her in this manner and then there was the fact that she was technically off duty, so why was she here? "Do not fret so, servant." Naminé murmured, glancing away from Aqua as she stared down at her, a hand hovering in front of her mouth. "They are very old."

This is what she had been afraid of; not the hateful stares or the traded whispers, but the pity. Pity was not something that she neither needed nor valued. It was for the weak-minded, not somebody as tall and as proud as herself. She was better than that, better than pity. But of course, Aqua didn't know this, nor seem to care.

"I...I see." The woman looked away sharply upon seeing how empty Naminé's eyes had become. Aqua swallowed slowly, trying to force the horrible, twisted image of the young girl's burned wrists from her mind as she spoke in a shaky voice, "W-would you like me to escort you back to your room?"

When Naminé glanced up again, she felt exhausted, as if all of the life had suddenly been drained right out of her. She shook her head, her golden hair whipping against her pale cheeks. "Go home, Aqua." She murmured quietly, turning her back to the servant, hugging her arms to her chest. "I do not require your services this evening. I shall take a bath in the morning."

Not bothering to wait for her servant to give her a response, Naminé began making her way back to her room, her head held high in an attempt to disguise the pain which was rooted so deeply within her, but it was a foolish attempt. She wasn't fooling anyone anymore. The scars she was forced to wear across her body were more than just welts and bumps melded into her skin; they told a tale of a terrible past which didn't want to be forgotten. No matter how many times she would bury the memories deep within her heart, they would always rise back to the surface, reminding her.

Her pain, her fear and her horror went a lot deeper than she was willing to let on.

* * *

**A/N:** So...what do you think? Is it a good start? I'm hoping that it'll be a little different compared to what's already out there. :3

Before I say anything else — this story is most likely going to be pretty long — a lot longer than anything I have ever attempted before, let's put it that way. This means it'll be a slow build. I can't really afford to rush it as I have a lot of details to cover. I hope you guys will find this journey an interesting read! ^^

As you can see, I've presented Naminé in what I hope you'll see as a fresh and unique way. I have to admit, I loved writing her like this; her attitude and the manner in which she speaks/interprets things is very interesting. Of course, she has a dark past, which I will be exploring in more depth in some of the later chapters. Unfortunately, there's no real Roxas interaction yet. This saddens me. But he'll be officially arriving soon, that much I can promise you. xD

Thank you all for reading, feel free to drop by with a review and tell me what you think; thoughts, praise and criticism are all welcome!

Until next time!

_~ AusisWinds-13_


	2. Insomnia

**A/N:** Hey guys, here's the second chapter! Enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any Kingdom Hearts or Final Fantasy characters!

* * *

**Chapter Two :: Insomnia**

The chains attached to the prisoners wrists and legs clinked with every step he took down the long, darkened hallway. The guards standing on either side of him were at least three heads taller and were much larger in stature, their muscular arms virtually bulging through the tight clothing they wore. The man turned his head away, glancing around the hallway with feigned interest, noting the drab décor hanging along the stone-coloured walls. He didn't really care much for Xehanort's castle; if anything, he wanted to set fire to its ramparts and watch it burn to a cinder, preferably with the wretched man inside.

He dipped his head and gritted his teeth angrily at the mere thought of the so called 'king'. This man was the reason why he and his group fought so hard to regain peace amongst the lands. He was the only reason people were suffering, both here and in his homeland. The man did not deserve to be king. He did not deserve to rule over these lands. If it were up to him, Xehanort would be dead before the sun set that very evening. But he was in no position to carry out such things.

No, instead he was in chains, walking down a never-ending corridor without another single soul in sight. He knew where he was going — the infamous prison of Castle Oblivion, where nothing but darkness and death prevailed — he'd heard enough stories about it to know that his chances of survival were exceedingly slim.

A small speck of fear suddenly ignited in the pit of his stomach at the thought. What if these walls would be the last thing he ever saw? What if he never got to see the light of day again? What would his brother do without him...?

Once again, he cursed his own reckless stupidity. The orders had been ridiculously simple — kidnap the princess and bring her back to camp. It was a simple and easy task, one which even a newbie could have taken on. Instead of victory, the plan ended sourly; during his attempt to escape, he was eventually caught by a group of soldiers on patrol with the girl. He had followed the young princess and her convoy around the lands for weeks, preparing for his mission in every way possible only to miserably fail.

He should have been able to take the girl without any problem whatsoever, but when she had bitten his hand with her sharp incisors and started screaming out for her guards, he knew that he stood no chance. He'd tried to escape the burly men chasing after him, but was soon caught in the outskirts of the forest and dragged back to the castle in heavy chains. And that wasn't the worst part. To make matters worse, he was being publicly condemned to death by beheading for his 'crimes'. He knew this was just a ploy; Xehanort wanted to set an example to any of the other rebels hiding in the woodwork who could potentially rise up against him. The chained man could only hope that this intimidation technique didn't work. He didn't want his group to stop fighting just because he had died for their cause...

The man curled his hands into tight, angered fists. It was unthinkable! He was to die a meaningless death at the hands of a violent, cruel king who ruled his so-called subjects through fear. From what he and his organization had observed, there were public executions almost every week; from young children who had stolen a load of bread from the local baker to elderly people who told haunting stories which eventually inadvertently encouraged an uprising against the king. Nobody was safe from his brutality; even the smallest and most pitiful of crimes were punishable by death. It was a surprise then, he thought, that the man even had any subjects left to rule.

He bristled angrily, wishing more than anything that he could bring his sword down on Xehanort's skull and cleave the disgusting excuse of a human being in half. Only then would there be peace within the Enlightened Realm once again. And peace in his homeland, too.

The two men on either side of him suddenly tugged him to the right with enough force to almost dislodge his shoulders from their sockets. He looked up sharply, snapping out of his own thoughts when the three of them rounded a corner and entered yet another, even narrower hallway with no apparent end. It was somewhat dark and gloomy, with only one window stamped into the wall to allow the dying sunlight to filter through the glass, casting an ominous shadow across the carpeted floor.

He held back a flinch. It was becoming clear to him now, with every step they took down the long hallway, he was nearing ever closer to his death and nobody would know that he was here, not even his own leader. He needed to escape — nobody would be coming to rescue him, he was on his own. That's what he'd been told. He didn't even have a way of summoning for help.

Out of curiosity, the brunette tugged his wrists outwards in an attempt to test the chains and their strength, pausing only when the two men escorting him down to the cells shot him suspicious glares. Unfortunately for him, Xehanort knew how to make damn good cuffs, designed specifically for criminals such as him. He saw no way of escaping his bonds unless the guards cowered on the floor beneath him and happily relinquished to him the key to his freedom. He held back a derisive snort. That was highly unlikely to happen. He was going to die completely alone in front of hundreds of people who didn't even know his name. He didn't know what was worse — the fact he would never get to see Xehanort's downfall or that he was going to die a pitiful death at the hands of a cowardly man.

If only the so-called 'king' knew how much his people — and the outlaws who fought against him — hated him and everything he stood for. Times were so much better when King Ansem and Queen Lillian used to rule; everything and everyone prospered, living long and healthy lives, but of course they died in that tragic fire along with their young five year old daughter and the majority of their servants.

It was a well-known tale among those within the Enlightened and Dark Realms, but there were so many versions that it was hard to determine which story was the truth and which were exaggerated old folk tales, told by the elderly to impress the kids. Some claimed that the young princess had survived, while others said that the whole family had fled to the Unknown Land hours before the disaster. He doubted both of these stories — nobody could have escaped that. No one. Not even a princess. Personally, he thought that their deaths had been one conspiracy theory to put Xehanort into power — it was something he could quite easily imagine the man doing — and his group agreed.

Suddenly, the two guards on either side of him grabbed his arms and yanked him to a stop. He looked up, curious as to what had caused such a commotion, only to find that they had reached what appeared to be a menacing wooden door. The small speck of fear in his stomach flared up, filling his entire body with terror. This was it. This would be his end and there was nothing he could do to stop it from happening.

The intimidating man with dark dreadlocks and sideburns reached out and opened the door, revealing a long flight of stairs spiralling down into a seemingly never ending abyss. He leaned forwards, staring into the dark hole until his mind began to spin and he was forced to look away.

He scowled. Trust Xehanort to keep his prisoners deep underground and away from the sunlight. It was cruelty in its highest form. At least he wouldn't be staying for too long... He would be dead by tomorrow evening.

The two men flanking him silently shoved him towards the stairs, their strong hands still wrapped around his upper arms. There was only one thought in his mind — he couldn't die like this. In a surge of panic, he tried to withstand their pushes by dragging his feet and jostling his arms as he threw his head back in search of anyone — anyone — who could help him. The guards wrestled him forwards another few feet, their faces contorted with rage as their prisoner attempted to resist arrest.

Right before he was pushed into the bottomless chasm which would most certainly lead to his demise, he locked gazes with a young maid with cropped blue hair who was watching him from across the hallway, an expression torn between horror and curiosity spreading across her immaculate face. She held a basket tightly against her shapely chest, her knuckles white as she continued to stare at him, her ocean blue eyes wide and fearful. Her lips parted and she took a step towards him, as if wanting to help.

He pleaded with her silently, hoping his eyes conveyed his desperation. She had to do something — call for help, distract the guards...anything. He needed to escape, he needed to leave now!

"Stop squirming and move it, prisoner, or we'll be forced to have you executed here and now." The burly man with short red hair slicked back into odd, messy spikes barked, elbowing him roughly in the ribs.

He let out a groan and immediately doubled over, winded by the sudden assault. He straightened jerkily, glancing back at the maid still hovering a little way off. The young woman flinched, her eyes darting around the empty corridor before she took off in the opposite direction, her short blue hair flying behind her, leaving him to his certain death. He opened his mouth, meaning to call out to her before she disappeared from sight, but the guard on his other side grabbed him by the hair and shoved his head down with a menacing growl.

She was gone.

He craned his neck back after her and bared his teeth as he struggled against his captors, but they were a lot stronger than he was and soon wrestled him down the stairs, their fingers digging into his tanned skin. He cried out, thrashing and pulling at his bonds, dragging his feet across the stone flooring in an attempt to slow their descent, but it was no use. Their strength was ten times his own and he stood no chance against them alone.

One of the guards reached back and promptly slammed the door shut behind them, blotting out the sunlight and sending them into complete darkness.

And it was then that Terra knew he was never going to see the light of day again.

**····» **₪** «····**

Aqua couldn't get to sleep.

She tossed and turned in her small single bed, the straw inside the thin mattress prodding into her spine and lower back uncomfortably with each move she made. She groaned, reaching out for the thin blanket which had fallen around her waist as she had wriggled about while grappling with her suddenly developed case of insomnia. She tugged the scratchy woollen material up to her chin, keeping her eyes squeezed shut, but the memory still haunted her mind, even behind her eyelids.

She could still recall in vivid detail the sharp, crisp blue of his eyes, his tousled chestnut hair and the slight curve of his lips. His eyes had pleaded with her, begged her to help him, but she had turned on her heel and ran. What could she have done anyway? Saved him? Helped him escape? The two of them would have been shot down by the guards before they even reached the main gate.

But what did it matter to him anyway? He was dead either way; executed tomorrow at noon, or so she'd heard...

Aqua rolled over onto her stomach once she realised that falling asleep was a futile hope. She propped herself up on her elbows, running her hands through her sweaty cropped hair, an involuntary sigh slipping past her lips. She closed her eyes, breathing in slowly in an attempt to tame the turmoil of emotions crashing around inside of her, but his desperate, pleading face still swam tauntingly behind her eyelids.

Her deep blue eyes snapped open, a frown creasing her brow. She needed to stop letting it eat away at her like this; it was not healthy. She didn't want to make herself ill. Who else would look out for Ven in her stead? The other servants? They were too busy looking after themselves, avoiding Xehanort's wrath. Miss Naminé, then? She was much too self-absorbed to really care and had enough on her plate to deal with as it was. She mentally berated herself for thinking such things. After witnessing what she had, she no longer considered Naminé to be the aloof, heartless girl Aqua always used to believe she was. No, she hid a much darker, deeply sinister secret.

Aqua shivered at the very thought, remembering how Naminé's pale, beautiful wrists had been stained red with nasty raised burns. She had been warned that Naminé had some...rather gruesome scars on her body, but she'd never seen them before, up until now. Nothing in the world could have prepared her for the awful sight which awaited her when she went in search of the young girl. Now that she had seen what hid beneath the sleeves, Aqua understood why the girl refused to allow the woman to bathe her and why she insisted on wearing long sleeves dresses even in the sweltering heat of summer; she was hiding from the one thing she could never hope to escape. The poor girl. She had seen the look in her eyes after her deadly secret had been revealed — her once calculating, intelligent gaze was dull and lifeless, her eyes nothing more than glassy orbs in the hollows of her skull. It were as if her soul had been sucked out, leaving her with nothing but an empty body and mind.

It pained her to see Naminé in that way. She was normally such a passionate, headstrong girl who worked hard to get what she wanted and to see her reduced to nothing but an emotionless shell had been a big shock for her. She knew, without a doubt, that it was Xehanort's fault she had been put in such a traumatising situation. The man had been cruelly terrorising the girl since she had first arrived in the castle, searching to find what made her tick, as if Naminé was his own personal little lab experiment. That alone made her loathe the man even more. How could somebody who was supposed to be a father figure for a young girl treat someone so disgracefully?

She felt trapped. All around her was pain and death, but there was nothing she could do to stop it. Naminé, that strange man, Ven...even the entire Kingdom. People were suffering and nobody seemed to care, not even their own king.

Aqua placed her face into her upturned palms and shut her eyes, massaging the bridge of her nose with the tips of her long, delicate fingers. Her mind had come to the conclusion that she would have to do something to help somehow; she couldn't sit back and let this all happen without even trying, but several questions plagued her mind, stopping her from following through with her good intentions: how? What could she do? She couldn't fight — heck, she'd never even wielded a blade before — she'd only used her magic to heal little cuts and bruises and she simply could not slip around the castle without being noticed...

...But Miss Naminé could. She'd been slinking around the castle walls without anybody really even noticing her ever since she was a young girl. She was the perfect candidate!

It was then that Aqua began to wonder if she should enlist the girl's help with whatever she planned to do — she knew the blonde hated Xehanort just as much as she did and wasn't likely to rat her out to him, not to mention she was a princess and could get away with pretty much anything if she wanted to. But what if Naminé thought it beneath her? What if she didn't see the benefit in helping a condemned convict escape? No... She had a sneaking suspicion that the girl wouldn't care in the slightest, especially as she wouldn't be getting anything out of it, other than the satisfaction of depriving Xehanort of another public execution.

All of a sudden there was a loud and resounding knock at her bedroom door.

Aqua shot into a sitting position and clutched the blanket to her chest, staring across at the door with wide, frightened eyes. Had somebody found out about what she planned to do? Were they coming to arrest her too? They couldn't — she had to look after Ven, she was all he had left.

Slowly, the latch lifted and the door swung open, creaking eerily in the darkness.

The blue haired woman curled her knees to her chest, wishing she had put a deadbolt on the door when she'd had the chance. She knew of the despicable guards who roamed the halls at night, searching for young maidens to have their way with. How was she supposed to defend herself? The heaviest object she had in her room was a chair, but even that looked about ready to break. She couldn't use her magic — she didn't want her magic to be used to bring harm to another person — after all, she would most likely be beheaded on the spot. What else was there? She could scream, but she doubts anybody would be courteous enough to come to her rescue...

Much to her surprise, Ven's head suddenly popped around the doorframe, his expression caught between exhaustion and guilt. Relief flooded through her and she let her legs slide away from her chest. She had never been so happy to see her best friend before in her life.

When the young blond caught sight of her pressed up against the wall, her eyes watching him the entire time he smiled wearily and stepped further into the room, rubbing at his azure eyes with the backs of his hands. "I'm sorry if I woke you, Aqua. I wanted to drop by before I headed to bed."

Her eyebrows furrowed with concern as the boy staggered closer, his face hidden by the shadows. She reached a hand out to steady him and guided him to the edge of the bed, where he immediately flopped down, his breath whooshing past his lips. She crossed her arms and stared down at him sternly. "No wonder you looked so tired when I saw you in the kitchen — you should get to bed earlier, Ven, you don't want to get sick. I can't keep healing you all the time. People will get suspicious."

"Even if I wanted to, I couldn't." Ven murmured, throwing a hand across his face, his voice sullen. Aqua immediately regretted her words. Why had she scolded him when it was so obvious that he was on the verge of falling unconscious from exhaustion? "Miss Xion needed me to stay with her for a while. She's been real shaken up since that outlaw tried to have her killed this afternoon. They caught him, but she was still freaking out when I came in to see her." He peeked up at her through his fingers when she breathed in sharply. "Did you hear about that, too?"

Aqua shook her head distractedly, her thoughts elsewhere. What were the odds that Xion was attacked and a mysterious man was dragged down to the prison in chains that very same afternoon? Was he a murderer? Did he hurt innocent people? Was he a part of some kind of...cult? And she had been sympathising with him…

The blond sprawled on the bed beside her suddenly sat up, his hand resting on her arm. "Aqua?" He asked, his voice tinged with something akin to excitement. "Do you know something I don't? Do you know who it was that attacked Miss Xion? She wouldn't tell me when I asked; just that he'd been captured."

Again, she shook her head, her nose crinkling as she turned her gaze to him. "No..." She blinked, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Well, maybe... I don't really know. It could have been..." She trailed off and sighed, smiling apologetically down at him. "It could be a coincidence."

"There are no such things as coincidences." Ven stated sagely, his voice taking on an unusually sombre tone. "Everything happens for a reason. Whatever you're thinking is most likely right." She swivelled around to stare at him, her mouth slightly agape. His bright eyes blinked owlishly back at her, his lips curving into a cheesy grin. That was the Ven she knew well.

She tried to shake the ominous feeling which was rattling through her body, but she was too unsettled by it all. The fact of the matter was that she could scarcely believe that something so wise had emerged from her best friend's mouth. She'd always known that he was smart, but this was something new. It almost sounded like he was speaking from experience and that unnerved her. She knew his past was fairly dark, but she never expected to receive a reaction like that. Perhaps he wasn't the innocent little boy she'd always been convinced that he was.

"Aw, c'mon. I didn't say anything that mind-blowing, Aqua." The boy laughed as he started bouncing up and down on his knees, causing the straw within the mattress to rustle and crackle beneath him. He grabbed one of her hands and attempted to pull her up with him. "Tell me what you're thinking about! I wanna know!"

He never ceased to amaze her. Not a few moments ago he had been sprawled across her bed virtually on the verge of passing out and now he was practically bouncing off the walls. Aqua laughed in response, reaching up to ruffle his soft, unruly spikes with her free hand. "Alright, I'll tell you. But settle down first." She glanced around nervously, glad for once that the walls of the castles were so thick. "I wouldn't want you to wake anybody."

The chances of him waking somebody up were virtually non-existent, but she didn't want to risk being overheard by somebody allied towards Xehanort and his cause. Earlier that morning, shortly after healing Ven, she felt like something was wrong. She hadn't been able to place the feeling, so she let it go, but the very idea that somebody had seen her performing magic continued to niggle at the back of her mind, refusing to let go. For once, she decided to listen to her instincts and her instincts were telling her to be more careful. But she couldn't tell Ven that — he would freak out and ask her never to use her magic to help him again. He would spend most of his time worrying about her when he should be looking after himself. Besides — it was _her_ job to worry about _him_, not the other way around.

Unfortunately, Ven was still bouncing up and down, his grin gleeful. He was like a puppy with boundless, untameable energy. She placed a hand on his shoulder, chuckling softly. "Ven, please, sit still for a minute."

"Okay!" Ven chirped. He stopped hopping from knee to knee and sat down cross legged in front of her, his expression bright and eager. "So what happened?"

There was so much she wanted to tell him — a lot had happened since they last saw each other in the kitchen earlier on in the day — but she didn't know how to explain it all. For a moment, Aqua wondered if she should tell him about the scars on Naminé's arms, after all she normally told him anything, no matter how small it might seem, but a small voice was niggling her at the back of her mind, telling her that she should keep it to herself, out of respect of the girl's privacy. Ven would understand. It wasn't like he had revealed all of his deepest, darkest secrets to her.

Aqua hugged her knees close to her chest and rested her chin on top of them, locking gazes with her best friend. She couldn't help but smile at the sight of his excited, bubbly appearance. He was always so optimistic and eager to please — it was a trait she truly envied and she wished she possessed the same unshakable faith in the world, but she couldn't, not after her parents had died. Not after her whole world came crashing down around her, leaving her with nothing but the clothes on her back and the small teddy sat on her tiny windowsill.

She sighed internally, averting her gaze to the scratchy blanket shrouding her form. She tugged at a loose thread as she began her story, "I was collecting Miss Naminé's laundry for the night. As you know, you have to pass the main entrance to the dungeon to get to her room." She glanced up at Ven, searching for his conformation. When he nodded, Aqua dipped her head again and continued, "I was walking down the hallway, when I noticed that some guards were escorting a prisoner down to the dungeons. I was...well, I was morbidly intrigued. I've never seen this happen when I was around before, so I stopped to watch what was going on."

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Ven lean in a little, his eyes wide with anticipation. She almost smiled at this.

"The man — the prisoner — he was quite young. He couldn't have been much older than me and he had these intense blue eyes which stared straight into your soul. His hair kind of sticks up—" She indicated with her hands the best she could, "—and is kind of styled into spikes." She chuckled fondly, reaching out to tug on one of his unruly locks, her voice becoming teasing, "His hair was nowhere near as crazy as yours, of course."

Ven, despite her teasing, was no longer smiling. His lips were set in a grim, straight line as he stared past her, grinding his teeth. "He's the guy who attacked Miss Xion." He whispered harshly, his hands clenching and unclenching.

Shocked, Aqua placed a hand on the boy's knee and squeezed it comfortingly. She knew how attached he was to the young princess — he freaked out whenever she got the smallest cut and would refused to forgive himself for days, claiming it to be his fault. She didn't want him to do something stupid this time, like seek the man out and demand to know why he attempted to hurt the girl. She knew that if he did that, he would end up doing something he would regret for the rest of his life. She needed to keep him grounded somehow. "You're certain of it?" Aqua asked slowly and quietly, hoping that she didn't offend him with her disbelieving tone.

He met her gaze, nodding vigorously, his blue eyes narrowed and dangerous. "I've never been more certain of anything." He promptly folded his arms across his chest defiantly, as if daring her to speak out against him. "She described his eyes and his hair almost the same way you did."

She wanted to rationalise with him before he started getting really mad, sensing that his emotions were completely out of balance. Ven was normally a placid boy who abhorred all kinds of violence, but when somebody threatened someone he cherished, he was not a force to be reckoned with. She'd seen first-hand the irritated glint in his eyes and heard his clipped, harsh tone as he struggled to cage his emotions; never did she want to be on the bad side of her dearest friend when he got into one of those kinds of moods.

In an attempt to comfort him, she rubbed his arm soothingly. "Ven, it doesn't matter. Xion is fine. She wasn't hurt." The woman's face paled as a horrid thought struck her. If that man was indeed the person who had tried to attack Xion, then that could mean only one thing. Her voice was no louder than a whisper when she chose to spoke again, "That man will be...gone tomorrow. There's nothing to worry about."

"That's not the point, Aqua!" The boy exploded, his nostrils flaring with anger as he shrugged off her hand irritably. "He tried to have her killed! She could have died! He deserves to suffer!"

She recoiled as though he had just bitten her, feeling her eyes widen automatically. He'd never once yelled at her before and she had never, ever seen Ven like this — he seemed genuinely angry towards the man who had attempted to take the young princess' life.

He stared at her for a long time, his cheeks reddening with shame. He ducked his head and muttered an apology before suddenly shooting to his feet and making his way towards the door again.

Startled by his sudden movements, she scrambled after him and placed a restraining hand on his shoulder. "Look, Ven. I know you are hurt, angry even, but that does not give you any right to go down there and seek revenge." She squeezed his arm firmly, keeping her voice soft and gentle. "You know, just as well as I do, that revenge only hurts people more. It will scar you in ways you can never hope to imagine." She loosened her grip on him and sighed. "So I am going to beg to you now, Ven; please, just let it go."

He slowly turned towards her, his face creased into a distressed, shameful expression. "You're right, Aqua; I can't seek revenge for something that didn't happen." He clenched his hands into fists and laughed bitterly. "What could I do anyway? He is going to be executed tomorrow. What good would killing him now do? I'll probably end up getting executed myself." A sudden weariness overcame the boy as he swayed towards the door, looking away from her. "I'll see you in the morning, Aqua. Thank you..."

Aqua shook her head. Ven had been through a lot; more than she cared to think about. He lost his parents and older brother during the war which was still waging heavily between the many realms in the Kingdom of Trinitas. He was captured by Xehanort's forces and brought to live at the castle when he was just eight years old. Even now she could remember how empty he had seemed when he came through those double doors, his head hanging listlessly. It had taken him a while, but he eventually opened up to her and accepted her as a friend. Even back then, he had been consumed with hatred towards the man whom had ordered the attack on his village; Xehanort. It had mellowed over the years, but she knew that that same consuming hatred for the man still burned deep within him and had spread to other areas of his life, too.

"Oh, Ven." She murmured sadly. With a shake of her head, she grabbed the boy and pulled him into an embrace, smiling slightly when she felt him stiffen against her. "It's okay to hurt every now and again." She murmured, stroking his fluffy hair gently. "It happens to the best of us."

'It happens to the best of us...' Those words sounded foreign in her mouth. They sounded fake. But nevertheless, she felt Ven relax into her arms and bury his face in her shoulder.

And only then did she feel the tears against her bare skin.

**····» **₪** «····**

Naminé stared listlessly up at the stone ceiling above her bed, silently counting each square slab of granite, wondering how long it would take for her to fall asleep. She supposed that it was late — the rest of the castle was eerily silent; not even the tell-tale rustle of servants could be heard in the hallways. This was one of the many reasons why she immensely preferred it at night. Instead of being rushed and ordered about by Xehanort like some foolish slave, she was free to do what she pleased. Mostly, that meant either drawing or wandering the battlements, staring out at the big wide world before her.

Time and time again, Naminé had begged Xehanort to let her out, to let her see the world with her own eyes rather than listen to the tales Aqua often told her. She wanted freedom, adventure, excitement...maybe even love. She wanted it all. She wanted to explore every corner of the Kingdom, she wanted to learn all there was to learn, she wanted see all there was to see, but most of all she wanted a life where she could live in peace, away from Xehanort.

She had dreamed of a life like that for so long. In the beginning, she truly believed in those dreams, but as she grew older it began to draw further and further away from her until it was nothing more than a childish hope to keep her holding on. Now, of course, she knew her hopes of ever leaving the castle were minimum. Xehanort would never let her leave, not by choice anyway.

A part of her did not understand why he didn't just kill her where she stood — he seemed to despise her enough and always treated her with a sense of disdain — but she soon came to realise that there was more to him than that. While he came across as a horrible old King who took great pleasure in watching others suffer, Naminé knew the man hidden beneath all of that, swathed in shadows. He was pure evil. He took great interest in dark magic, even though he abhorred it, and was meticulous enough to know which parts of the body he would have to crush until somebody passed out from the pain. He was a ruthless King and he had destroyed the lands her parents had once ruled over, turning light into shadow and good into bad. He commanded a mass following, all allied to his dark intentions and somehow managed to keep the entire Realm under his reign.

The Enlightened Realm, where her parents used to rule, was finally given to King Eraqus, who was the middle brother of the Tenebris lineage, after a long and bloody battle with Xehanort's forces. However, Eraqus was not content with the way in which his brother was commanding his Realm. He had tried to thwart the man in his tracks before his ever-growing power came too great, but he ultimately failed when Xehanort's forces charged into the Realm Between and wiped out most of the villages overnight, destroying over half of his Realm. Once Eraqus had regrouped his forces, Xehanort had already swept through his lands, leaving him with virtually nothing. Word was that he was still trying to rebuild his Realm so he could face off against Xehanort again, but Naminé doubted he would ever have the forces and means to do so. Unless the man suddenly died in his sleep one night, they would be stuck with the insufferable King for the foreseeable future.

Naminé sighed heavily. She saw no way out of this hellhole. Xehanort watched her at every turn, claiming to be a doting father figure when in fact she knew he was keeping an eye on her for other, more sinister reasons. Quite frankly, she preferred to stay in the dark regarding his plans. One day she would have to face up to him, but it would not be today.

The small girl held her bare arms out above her head, her lips pursing. She was still wearing the dress Xehanort had gifted her with, partly because it was a hassle to get off and partly because it was a lot easier just to wait until morning to get changed when Aqua would be able to assist her. It wouldn't matter too terribly anyway. It was not like she planned on going anywhere until then, so nobody would see her, or the ugly scars tainting her skin.

Unconsciously, she tugged on her sleeves, drawing them over her wrists. Of course, as soon as she let go they sprung straight back up, but she was too tired to care. She rolled onto her belly and buried her face in her satin pillows, revelling in the silence surrounding her, smothering her. For a moment, she could pretend that she wasn't trapped within the cold stone walls of the castle. For a moment, she could be whoever she wanted to be. She could be free of her scars, free of her burdens and free of all responsibility. That was what she wanted, was it not?

Whatever she had been about to think next was abruptly cut off as a loud slamming sound met her ears.

Almost immediately, Naminé sat bolt upright, a hand pressed against her heart, which was hammering unrelentingly against her ribcage. She had no idea where the noise had come from or what could have possibly caused it, but instead of being afraid like she possibly should have been, she felt a sudden surge of excitement rush through her.

She shuffled over to the edge of the bed and tossed her legs over the side so that they dangled above the stone floor. Once her bare feet touched the ground, she shuddered violently and grabbed her cloak from where she had tossed it earlier that evening. Naminé carefully drew the material around her shoulders and stopped beside the fireplace at the foot of her bed. Only a few embers stirred within its metal jaws now, but it still gave off enough heat to reach her cheeks, for which she was thankful as there was a certain chill in the air. Slowly, she reached out for the poker standing beside the mantle and hefted it over her shoulder experimentally. Never in her life had she been taught how to hold a weapon, let alone wield one, so she didn't think she would be able to do much else except intimidate an intruder long enough to shout for help. But that didn't bother her too much as there was a rather minute chance of there even being an intruder within the castle walls.

Now relatively well armed for whatever threat waited for her on the other side of her old oak door, she padded towards it, brandishing the poker like a heavy club. When her fingertips brushed against the brass latch, she was overcome by a sudden sense of uncertainty. What if she had imagined the whole ordeal? What if the loud crash had been nothing more than her childish imagination getting away from her?

But then another question posed itself in her mind; what if she _hadn't_ imagined it? What then? What was she supposed to do? She was up in the highest room in the castle — nobody was around to help her, meaning she would have to take care of herself. But then again, she had always made a point of looking after herself. It was the way in which she had to live, anyhow. Xehanort was hardly the type to offer her such assistance.

Naminé reaffirmed her grip on the metal poker in her hands and glared defiantly at the door in front of her. She was a princess and therefore did not scare easily. Not only that, but she had been to hell and back in her short sixteen years. Whatever was hiding behind that door, she was fairly certain she could handle it. Her father had raised her to be a tough little girl, after all.

Without another moment of hesitation, she grabbed a hold of the brass handle and lifted it up, releasing the latch. The door swung towards her with a whispering creak, leaving a gaping, dark hole in her wall. The hallway before her was virtually pitch black, with not even the light of the moon from outside casting a glow across the thin corridor. Although Naminé was alone, she was not in the least bit frightened as she took a cautious step out of the comforts of her room, holding the poker in her hands a little higher, as if to ward off the darkness itself.

A high pitched whistling sound worked its way into her senses, partnered with the sound of something metallic slapping against a stone wall. The sudden bellow of wind smashing into her face snatched at her courage, but she remained firm, breathing in and out slowly to keep herself calm. The wind had to have come from somewhere — her logical mind told her that much — but she couldn't see her own hand in front of her face, so she simply couldn't decipher what it might be. The harsh slapping continued and Naminé found herself charging onwards, slashing her poker at the air in front of her, only to reach the source of the noise a lot quicker than she had expected.

Much to her surprise, it was only a window that had been thrown open, leaving it to flap back and forth on its hinges, its latch practically obliterated by the howling winds still whipping about her face. She did not allow herself to let out a sigh of relief even when she closed the offending window and secured the now flimsy latch, but felt slightly more relaxed than she had done a few moments ago. Who would have thought that Castle Oblivion could be so frightening at night?

For once, Naminé did not pause by the window to stare down at the empty courtyard bathed in moonlight and instead began traipsing back to her room, the poker trailing behind her. She shouldered the door open and stepped into the refuge which was her room, immediately shutting the wooden door behind her. She leant against it and pressed the back of her free hand to her forehead, wrinkling her nose with disgust when it came away damp with sweat. For a moment there, she felt a small ounce of fear budding inside of her. She could not for the life of her think of why that was, but she put it down to her frayed nerves. Xehanort appeared to have really gotten under her skin this time.

If only she had heeded her instincts.

The girl pushed herself away from the door and took a step towards her bed, still clutching firmly at the metal object in her left hand. She was tired and her mind was playing tricks on her. She just needed a good night's rest to clear her head because tomorrow, it would be an all-out war against Xehanort. Naminé gritted her teeth determinedly and tossed her poker to the ground by the fire, cringing at the clanging noise it made against the stone flooring. She barely made it to the foot of her bed when her door let out an ominous creak as it swung open.

She turned towards it, her breath hitching in her throat. Nobody stood in the now empty doorway, like she had expected, but if possible it seemed a lot darker than it had been a few minutes ago. Naminé rushed towards it and slammed it shut, ignoring the quick, heavy beats of her heart. She mentally scolded herself; she was being foolish. There was a perfectly reasonable explanation as to why her door had opened on its own like that. She was letting fear get to her. She needed to remain strong, firm and in control.

Naminé let out a huff of annoyance and pounded her small fist against the shiny wooden surface, frustrated with herself. "There is nobody here." She whispered harshly, her lips twisting into a scowl. "I am all alone. I am all alone."

"Well, I wouldn't say _all_ alone, princess." A silky, masculine voice suddenly purred, dangerously close to her ear.

She flinched, letting out a silent squeak of surprise before wheeling around to face the man, raising her arm to strike out at them, but the unseen figure caught her hand and deftly twisted it behind her back. She cried out, her entire wrist throbbing with pain and tried desperately to free herself, twisting and bucking as the man's other arm encircled her waist, holding her firmly against their broad, strong chest.

She opened her mouth to scream but another, slightly smaller hand covered her lips and the noise died in her throat. Her eyes widened with a mixture of fear and anger as a woman's face swam in her vision. Her slicked back blonde hair glinted in the soft glint of the embers which remained in her fireplace, highlighting her elegant cheekbones and adding emphasis to her bright, electric aquamarine eyes which were alight with a sadistic glee. Her thin lips were curled into a cruel sneer as she leaned into the girl's face, her antennae-like strands brushing her forehead. "Go on. Scream. Give me a reason to shut you up."

Naminé glared at her, warning the woman away with her eyes as she continued to struggle against her captor, but the blonde did not relent. Growing impatient and maybe even a little angry with her current predicament, Naminé bit at the woman's hand with the ferocity of a wild animal.

The blonde howled in pain and staggered back, clutching at her injured hand, her teeth bared in a wolf-like snarl.

The man still holding her snickered, "Wow, she's got some guts, I tell you." He jostled the young girl gently when she tried to scramble out of his arms and hooted playfully, "Pretty damn feisty for a princess! I like you!"

Unfortunately, the woman Naminé had bitten recovered fairly quickly, shaking her hand agitatedly and glowering at the young girl, her eyes filled with hatred. "You little _bitch_!" She cursed, spitting the word at her like she was vermin. "Let her go, Axel! I'll deal with her myself!"

The man — Axel, she now knew was his name — grunted and held a warning hand up towards his companion. "Larxene, calm down. Don't do anything stupid. The boss man said—"

"I don't care what he said!" Larxene snarled and grabbed for the girl, her fingers bent into claws, like she was attempting to claw Naminé's face apart.

This wasn't going to end well, she could sense it. Whatever they planned to do with her would most likely happen, but that did not mean in any sense that she would give up without a fight.

Determined to free herself, the blonde threw her head back and slammed it into Axel's chin. Surprised, he cursed and released his hold on her, his hand flying up to cup his face. Naminé darted for the poker resting by the fireplace, but before her fingers could curl around its intricate handle, she felt something solid slam into the back of her neck, right by the base of her skull. Her vision became hazy, the bright embers simmering in the fireplace flickering and swirling until her entire world went black and she collapsed to the floor.

Axel walked up beside her unconscious form, rotating his jaw uncomfortably, rubbing the tender spot with his hand. "Now that really _hurt_." He muttered sourly, his slanted green eyes watching her carefully as her chest rose and fell evenly. "No wonder Terra had trouble with her."

Larxene scoffed and quickly bound the girl's wrists before throwing her over her shoulder like she weighed nothing more than a sack of potatoes. She turned to Axel and glared, "Let's get out of here before I shove a knife through her pretty little stomach."

The redhead frowned as the blonde headed towards the corridor and shook his head, hissing quietly, "But what about Terra? Roxas said—"

The woman tossed him a slanted look over the girl's tiny body, cutting him off sharply, "Look, he gave us explicit instructions to kidnap the precious little princess and recon the castle." She rolled her eyes and threw open the wooden door, not caring if it made a loud noise when it slammed against the wall. "He did _not_ tell us to _heroically_ stage a jailbreak only to get captured ourselves." She moved out into the hallway, her voice no louder than a low growl, "I'd say we've done our job, so move it, pyro."

"We can't leave him!" Axel protested noisily as he hurried after the young woman. He reached out and grabbed her wrist, forcing her to face him. His nostrils flared and his eyes narrowed. "This is the _only_ chance we're gonna to get." He emphasised the word 'only' to try and get his point across, but Larxene didn't seem to care.

Her face contorted with anger and she shrugged off his hand, her electric blue eyes darkening, "If you want to risk your life, then by all means — go for it!" She snapped, walking over to the window with the broken latch and pulling it back. She reached down and grabbed a hold of the rope dangling beneath the stone overhang before hefting herself up onto the window sill, where she perched for a moment, muttering icily, "I won't mourn for you when you end up hanging from the gallows."

The young man clenched his hands into fists and shook his head, causing his hair which was loosely tied up by the nape of his neck to flick back and forth. "I don't like it. This isn't right." He growled, hovering uncertainly by the window, his eyes never leaving hers.

Larxene sighed impatiently, shifting the girl's weight slightly. "You don't have to like it." She spat coldly, jerking her head towards the edge of the castle wall, "Now let's go before you get us captured."

In a flash, Larxene slipped over the side of the sill and descended, leaving Axel alone in the corridor. She didn't even seem to show any remorse for leaving one of their comrades behind. But who was he kidding? She was a heartless bitch after all.

Worriedly, he glanced towards the winding spiral staircase and closed his eyes for a moment. He could only hope that Riku didn't know about Terra just yet. If he found out that they'd been to the castle but hadn't attempted to rescue him...he didn't want to think about how angry the young man would be.

Becoming thoroughly agitated with himself, Axel tossed his head and followed Larxene's lead by grabbing the taut rope and throwing himself out of the window. His feet barely had chance to touch the ground before the woman he had accompanied to the castle began running towards the forest, still carrying the unconscious girl over her shoulder.

Axel jogged after her, pausing only for a moment to glance back at the looming castle behind him before disappearing into the cool night, unaware of the pair of eyes watching him from the highest window in the tallest tower.

**····» **₪** «····**

Dawn was upon them by the time Axel and Larxene reached the edge of the forests of Xehanort's Realm. Axel knelt down, inspecting the soil which seemed to have been disturbed recently, a light smirk appearing on his face. Their camp was not too far away, and a good thing, too.

Larxene shifted the unconscious princess from where she was still draped over her shoulders and scowled across at the sun as it began to peak over the rolling hills to the east, her mood steadily souring. "The sooner we get back the better." She growled, sticking one hand on her hip as she paused to catch her breath, "I can't stand another moment lugging around all this dead weight."

The redhead straightened from where he had been crouched in the earth and held his arm out impatiently. "Give her here." When she turned to him, her expression dry, he sneered suddenly, his green eyes sparkling with sarcasm, "We don't want you getting a bad back now, do we?" He grunted when Larxene scowled and promptly tossed the poor girl at him without any regard for her immediate welfare. Luckily, he managed to wrap his lanky arm around the girl's upper torso before slinging her over his shoulder, his smirk morphing into a grimace. "Hit a nerve, eh Larxene?"

The blonde barely even bothered to toss him a glare as she began hiking into the forests of the Realm Between, her boots crunching the grass underneath her feet. She didn't waste her time waiting to see if he was following her — she didn't really care either way — she just wanted to deliver the girl and sleep for a solid twenty four hours. If she didn't respect her leader as much as she did, she would have ignored his orders and stayed at camp, but as it was, she liked the way he was going about fighting Xehanort and found his aims most agreeable. Axel, on the other hand, would do anything their boss asked of them at the drop of a hat, whether or not he liked what was involved.

Axel didn't bother trying to keep up with Larxene; she wasn't the type of person he preferred to have a conversation with, especially as most of the time she was either trying to flirt rather badly with him or insult his pride. No, he would much rather spend his time with the young princess who had yet to awaken. He shifted his hold on her, noting her weight to be a lot lighter than he would have expected in a girl such living a lavish life. She was also a lot smaller than he had originally thought, making the dress she was wearing look remarkably large on her petite form. The cloak which hung around her neck billowed slightly in the soft summer's breeze and he thought about removing it when it blew into his face for at least the fifth time, but decided against it when he felt the girl shiver.

He glanced back at her serene face. She was still unconscious. Surely that couldn't be a good thing? Shouldn't she have woken by now? Well, either way, he wasn't about to start taking chances when her life could be on the line. He could only imagine what Roxas' reaction would be like if he discovered that his only bargaining chip for Terra's life was just about as useless as a toothpick in the middle of a sword fight.

"Larxene." He called sharply as he paused and lowered the girl onto the dew covered grass. The cloak swathed her body and her hair fanned out against the ground, making her face look even younger. She couldn't be any older than sixteen at the most and he found that fact somewhat unnerving. He looked towards his companion and called, "Hold up."

"Why the hell should I?" She snapped irritably, wheeling around to face him, her lips curled into a snarl. When she saw that he had stopped, she glared at him and hissed, "What are you _doing_? We need to keep moving you idiot, we can't afford to waste any more time!"

Axel rolled his eyes and reached for the water skin tucked into the pouch on his waist. "I get that. But I'm not about to be responsible for the princess' death just because you decided to get a little violent." He pulled out the cork and lifted the young girl's head away from the ground before placing the water skin to her lips, a frown overtaking his features.

"Oh what are you talking about?" Larxene groaned impatiently as she stomped back to stand above him, her arms crossed over her chest as she eyed him disdainfully.

"She should have woken up by now." The redhead stated bluntly as he glanced between his companion's face and the outer edges of the forest. He knew it was risky to stop now, especially when they were still so close to Xehanort's Realm, but he wasn't about to have a dead's princess' life on his conscience. He tilted the container back, pouring a small amount of water onto her parted lips. Some of the liquid slid into her mouth, but most of it dripped down her chin. He grimaced and quickly wiped it away with his fraying sleeve.

"So?" The blonde woman scoffed, turning her head towards the sky, her eyes half-lidded. "Let the brat stay unconscious for all I care." She shot the young princess a rather filthy stare as she spat, "At least she's keeping that damn mouth of hers sh—"

The princess suddenly let out a loud, throaty cough, her back arching in Axel's arms. Her eyelids fluttered and she coughed again, louder this time, her head tipping to the side. Not knowing quite what to do, Axel rolled her onto her side and awkwardly patted her back until her coughs subsided and she lay gasping for breath, her eyes still clamped shut.

"There you have it!" Larxene declared, throwing her arms skyward agitatedly. "Are you satisfied now? She's fine. She's breathing. Now we can get going." Without waiting to hear his reply, she started stalking onwards, her strides short and angry. She only paused for a moment to glance back at him, wearing an expression that he couldn't decipher, but he was almost certain it was laced with annoyance. "Well? Are you coming, pyro?"

He looked down at the princess again when she groaned, noticing how her eyelids were still fluttering slightly as she began to regain consciousness. With a heavy sigh, he looped her bound wrists around his neck and threw her over his shoulder again, rising unsteadily to his feet as he began to follow after the rather impatient Larxene who was now quite a way ahead.

Not wanting to jostle the girl and risk her choking again, he kept his pace to a speedy walk, his strides long and loping. In no time at all, he caught up with his companion and who was about to say something undoubtedly obnoxious when the young girl in his arms let out a sharp gasp and started kicking her legs.

"No... No, no!" She cried, her slender arms whacking at his back rather infuriatingly. Panic welled up within her. Naminé knew exactly what had befallen her and could honestly say that she felt frightened for her own wellbeing. She feared that if she did not manage to free herself before her kidnappers arrived at wherever it was they were taking her, something even worse would come to pass. And so, she continued to struggle and screech, "Put me down! Let go of me! Let me go right now, you monsters!"

Larxene visibly bristled at the comment and made a move to most probably knock the girl out for a second time, when Axel raised a hand to stop her.

He plastered a bright smirk onto his face, glancing over his shoulder to meet the girl's frightened, infuriated gaze. "Well, good morning princess!" He hollered sarcastically, ignoring the tiny, insignificant blows she continued to rain down upon his back, "We were beginning to wonder if you were ever going to wake up!"

"Although some of us _much_ preferred it when you were unconscious." Larxene muttered sourly, her hands hovering by her upper thigh, where she was well known to keep her precious knives. Axel shot her a warning look, which she completely disregarded.

For a moment, Naminé was completely baffled by their words. While she knew what had happened, she did not fully understand what was going on and still felt disorientated from being unconscious for so long. "You..." She let out an indignant noise and tossed her head haughtily. "You...you fiends! I demand you put me down right this instance! I am a _princess_; you have no right to—!"

"Oh relax!" Axel cut in with a lazy laugh, throwing his head back and spreading his free arm wide, twirling for the girl's benefit. "Enjoy the view while you can!" He tossed her a crazy grin and waggled his eyebrows. "Where we're going, you probably won't be seeing this neck of the woods for quite some time."

Her voice now no louder than a whisper, the princess struggled to peer over her own shoulder at her two captors. "Who are you people? Bandits? Pirates?" She narrowed her eyes, quite clearly remembering the many stories she had heard about the ruffians which trawled through the forests to the North. They were supposed to be bloodthirsty cut-throat murderers with a crippling lust for gold... The blonde curled her lip in contempt at the thought. Perhaps she could bargain for her freedom. "What do you want? Money? I have money, I'll give you as much as you desire if you release me."

The older woman let out a derisive snort, her cruel aquamarine eyes slanting towards the struggling princess who tried — and failed — to glare filthily at her. "Tch. Predictable response."

The redhead carrying the young girl let out a dramatic sigh, "As much as it grieves me to say this princess — we don't want money." He laughed darkly, his voice becoming tinged with sarcasm as he blatantly mocked her, "You're going to be stuck with us for quite some time, so I'd get used to the idea of being a captive if I were you, your highness."

Anger soon drowned out the panic and fear which had distilled within her. She began writhing within the man's grasp, twisting and bucking for all she was worth, smacking her bound arms against his upper back, not caring whether she brought injury to herself "No. I will not allow it!" She managed to land a kick dangerously near to his groin, causing him to jerk, almost dropping her as she continued to yell, "I refuse to be taken prisoner by a pair of ruffians!"

Before she knew what was happening, there was a knife at her throat and Larxene's face swam before her own. Naminé breathed in sharply, all of her courage washing straight out of her. "Oh, you poor thing!" The woman cooed cruelly, lightly dragging the tip of her wicked dagger along the base of her throat, applying enough pressure to make her uncomfortable. "Well, unless you haven't noticed, _princess_, you're already our prisoner." All too soon, the woman's fake smile dropped from her face and she glared ferociously at the girl, her lips curling into a deadly sneer as she continued to hold the dreaded blade against her exposed neck. "So unless you want me to cut out that pretty little tongue of yours, I suggest you shut the hell up, stop squirming and deal with it. Are we clear?"

Naminé swallowed thickly. What other choice did she have? If she even were able to escape, she knew she would be struck down before she even made it five steps. If this woman was indeed as sharp and as fast as she appeared, the princess did not stand a chance. And so, with a hint of defiance still present within her voice, she replied haltingly, "Yes."

"Good." The pressure of the knife was lifted and Larxene's face withdrew. "I'm so _thrilled_ we had that little chat."

The blonde woman backed away and resumed her position beside Axel, who gave her a hasty once over and chastised his companion gruffly, "Larxene."

"What? Oh don't give me that. She's a spoilt brat. It'll serve her right if something unfortunate happens to her before we arrive back at camp."

"Where are you taking me?" The thoroughly shaken princess asked, her voice subdued and cautious. The last thing he wanted was to provoke the blonde woman any further. She had already proved to be quite a terrifying person, willing to harm her should she irritate her any further and Naminé was not going to take any chances. She would play along as the subdued prisoner...for now. But as soon as she was given an opening to escape, she would and without any hesitation.

This time, Axel spoke, the cheerfulness in his voice clearly forced. "How _delightful_ of you to ask! Well, questions can be answered later." He pushed aside a swath of bracken in their path and stepped grandly into a clearing. "We're here!"

Naminé scowled and rolled her eyes, unable to see anything except the path in which they had taken. She opened her mouth to speak, only to suddenly find herself thrown unceremoniously to the ground, her hands unable to break her fall as they were bound in front of her. She let out a slight cry as she landed on her bum, but was quick to silence herself when she heard other people approaching.

"Axel, Larxene! You're back!" A girl's voice cried.

The blonde forced herself into her knees, not caring if her dress got ruined — she could think of no better fate for the dreadful item which her Uncle had gifted her with. She was quick to draw the cloak around her to hide her wrists, thankful that it had not been removed on their journey. She glanced up as somebody suddenly knelt down before her, shoving their face exceptionally close to hers.

A young man, who looked not a day older than herself, was staring intently at her face, one hand cupping his chin thoughtfully. In his other hand, he held a beautiful silver staff, which he was leaning comfortably against, without any apparent regard for the laws of gravity. He had long brunette hair which was tied back in a braid held dutifully in place by an exotic looking ornament. His eyes were chocolatey brown and inquisitive, glinting with obvious curiosity as he continued to watch her. "Well, what d'you know? They actually managed to bring the princess back in one piece." When the Princess stared right back at him, his lips twitched into a slight scowl as he snapped, "What are you lookin' at blondie?"

Naminé scrambled away from the young brunette, finding him to be much too close to her. She prided her personal space and the young man was stepping dangerously close to crossing the invisible taboo line ranging from uncomfortable to downright rude. She wanted to snap right back at him, but found she couldn't utter the right words.

A girl with bright pink hair strung up into a high ponytail suddenly appeared beside the boy and slapped his arm in a reprimanding manner. "Palom, back off and give her some space! There's no need to be so rude!" She scolded, her scowl melting away into a cheerful smile when she met the princess' confused stare. She was holding her own staff, Naminé noticed, and it was just as fascinating as the boy's.

The boy — Palom — rubbed at his arm absent-mindedly, rolling his eyes. "Oh, cool off, Porom." He broke away from the girl, whom Naminé assumed to be his sister if their names and appearances were anything to go by, and turned back towards the princess, a smirk of his own making its way onto his face. "The name's Palom. I'm—"

Palom was cruelly cut off when Larxene shoved by him with a low snarl, "Move it, you little runt."

Obviously enraged, the brunette rolled up the sleeves of his green tunic and brandished his staff threateningly, his eyebrow quirked challengingly. "We'll see who's calling _who_ a runt in a minute..."

The blonde merely cackled, pulling out one of her knives and twirling it expertly. "Oh I'm _so_ scared."

Naminé watched the two with a sense of alarm. Surely Larxene would severely injure the boy if they were to engage in a fight? He only had a staff against those deadly daggers. That and he did not look nearly as tough as the woman who was casually fingering one of her knives, a sadistic grin playing about her lips. But then, Palom looked pretty determined and the confident tilt to his head suggested there was a lot more to him than meets the eye.

"You should be." The brunette declared, shifting his stance and holding his staff in front of him, "I'll come over there and kick your ass, you whiny little—"

Porom promptly stepped between the two, holding her own staff up to ward off Larxene. "Palom, stop it." She made a shooing motion at the brunette, her tone disapproving, "We have a guest; remember your manners."

Palom straightened and tucked his staff under his arm, stifling an annoyed pout as he huffed angrily, "Oh what does it matter? I've never been one for manners anyway. Why should I care what some princess thinks? I'm _the_ Prodigy."

Naminé, while disturbed by his strange attitude, disregarded his rudeness towards her and sat a little straighter, holding her blind wrists against her chest, which were generously covered by her cloak. She was thoroughly confused by what was going on. From what she could see, she had been brought to a camp hidden at the foot of a large hill, where several billowing tents were set up, dotted around the small clearing, but she still had no idea why she had even been brought to such a place. This so called camp was a filthy pig sty. How people could even live under such conditions amazed her. She tilted her head back, slightly unnerved to see the branches of unfamiliar trees overhead, barring her view of the morning sky.

While a part of her was sincerely thrilled to finally be outside of the castle walls, she did not favour the manner in which she had come to be here. She had always imagined that she would be free — free to make her own decisions, not to be taken prisoner by a bunch of riffraff without any apparent cause for doing so.

With that thought in mind, she tended her jaw and squared her shoulders, declaring boldly, "I demand to know what's going on. What am I doing here?"

"So, you want to know what you're doing here, do you?" A cold voice asked. "Very well, I shall enlighten you."

Naminé's head whipped around towards the source of the voice, ignoring the goose bumps which travelled down her spine as her ears caught the rich and silky tones laced with slight aloofness. However, when her eyes landed upon the tall, proud figure of the young man standing a few feet away from her, she could not hold back the soft gasp which passed her lips.

He was unlike any other man she had ever laid eyes on. If she were to describe him in one word, she would have said that he was majestic. He held himself with the authority of a prince; his chin was lifted arrogantly, his icy blue eyes staring intensely into her own as he regarded her like one would someone beneath them. While this would usually irritate her, she was speechless and could not find the words to reprimand him.

Her eyes travelled down. He was wearing a simple fraying white tunic which was tucked loosely into a pair of black leather pants which hugged his lithe figure. On his feet sat a pair of heavy looking boots which laced up at the front, stopping a good few inches beneath his knees. Attached to the belt on his hip sat a scabbard with a terrifyingly dangerous looking sword. She could not help but stare up at him in awe as he stopped beside Palom and Porom for a moment, tipping his head gracefully towards them.

The two twins glanced up at him and stepped aside, bowing their heads as he passed by them, suddenly striding towards the Princess, his expression as cold and unforgiving as his icy blue eyes as he spoke in a flat, almost bored tone, "You are the bargaining chip which will help to save my comrade's life and bring down Xehanort from his reign of tyranny."

She couldn't speak — she couldn't even utter a sound. She was sure that her face was as white as a sheet and that her eyes were practically bulging out of her skull, but she did not care. Inside, she was severely freaked out.

It wasn't his stunning good-looks and silky, hushed voice that was the reason for her sudden and rather impractical breathlessness, although it was a rather large factor.

The real reason behind her shock was _how_ he looked. The longer she stared at him, the more confused she became, because the man standing before her could easily be an exact replica of Aqua's beloved friend and fellow servant, Ventus. What was worse, he expected to use her as a bargaining chip for something undoubtedly illegal.

And so, she did the only thing a princess in her current predicament could do — she ran.

* * *

**A/N:** And so, the real action begins and Roxas finally meets Naminé, although she doesn't yet realise who he is. I'll be developing their relationship slowly — they're going to be at odds with one another for quite some time — but that's the beauty of it. The slow build of their relationship should hopefully contrast well with the action/adventure present throughout the later chapters of this story. Yes, they're both _pretty_ OOC, but the idea is that they'll both grow into the characters we all know and love as their relationship builds. ^^

We also had a small appearance from Terra — who is obviously Xehanort's prisoner currently — and he will be appearing in a later chapter. I'm still undecided whether or not I'll allow him to die. I suppose it's up to you guys to tell me what you think muahahaha!

I have to say, I'm really beginning to enjoy this. I can't wait to get deeper into the tale and unravel some secrets. It's going to be jam packed with action and adventure later on — so I'm pretty excited!

I hope you all like how this is going so far!

Until next time!

_~AusisWinds-13_


	3. Desperation

**A/N:** Here we go with the third chapter! Thank you all for your kind words, I hope you all enjoy the newest instalment. :)

Oh! And a massive, ultra, never ending thank you to the amazing_ SummonerDagger88_ for creating such a beautiful cover for this fic! I love you girl!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any Kingdom Hearts or Final Fantasy characters!

* * *

**Chapter Three :: Desperation**

Naminé did not even make it out of the clearing before she was swept off her feet by an unseen force. Her legs flailed as they were uprooted from the earth, panic setting in as she soon discovered she was hovering above the ground, not held by any man or contraption. She desperately tried to free herself from whatever had her in its clutches, but found she could barely move, much less escape the force which mercilessly held her captive.

Her head whipped around towards the sounds of soft chuckling coming from behind her and gaped when she saw Palom holding his staff out towards her, the gem at its tip glowing blue. His grin was apologetic, but his mischievous brown eyes conveyed the truth; he was anything but sorry for her current predicament and was perhaps even enjoying himself. Porom was standing uncertainly beside him, watching her silently, wearing odd expression torn between sympathy and confusion on her young face. She tried to smile, but the notion was lost on the struggling princess.

All too soon, her gaze returned to the young brunette. Her mind worked overtime to figure out a credible scenario. Was it possible? Did this young man truly possess magic? And was he using it against her? She didn't know whether to be angered or thrilled to witness such power. All of her life, Xehanort had kept her and the rest of his Realm sheltered away from magic, claiming that it was horrific and destroyed many lives and yet it intrigued her nonetheless. She had always desired to know more about it, to see it first hand, despite what poisonous words Xehanort used to feed her. Naminé knew, without a doubt, that not all magic was bad like he claimed it to be — it depended solely on the person using it. Whether they be bad or good, their magic reflected their soul.

She opened her mouth to question the boy on his apparent magical abilities, but it was then that the blond who reminded her so clearly of the servant back at Xehanort's castle came towards her, his eyes filled with barely restrained annoyance. "Do not think you can escape so easily, princess." He reached a hand up to toy with the edges of her cloak, although she tried to jostle away from him. He merely raised an eyebrow and dropped his hand, his voice becoming cold, "I do not believe that you can outrun Palom's magic, even if you tried."

She tossed her head defiantly, wishing her feet were still touching the ground. She felt self-conscious, hovering above the earth, totally vulnerable and at the mercy of this...this man who seemed to have quite an enigmatic presence about him. To her, that spelled danger. "I still do not understand what it is you require from me." She called harshly, twisting her head to follow his movements as he started back towards the main camp, his shoulders tensed.

He paused long enough to glance at her over his shoulder, his face devoid of any emotion, "You've been brought here for a very important reason, princess, of which I have already relayed to you." His lips twisted into a hateful scowl, "You see, as the daughter of Xehanort, you are quite valuable to us."

"Xehanort's daughter...?" Naminé whispered, feeling her heart slide into her stomach as she finally realised why she had been taken from her room by two strangers. The Ventus look-alike was watching her with a haughty glare, his gaze as icy and as cold as before, as if daring her to speak out. And of course, she did. She felt outraged, distraught and...well, she was afraid. If they truly believe her to come from Xehanort's direct lineage, things were about to become exceedingly complicated for her. With her eyes locked defiantly on his, she called out to him, "No, you have the wrong person! I have no relation to Xehanort other than the fact that he is my Uncle, not my—"

Much too suddenly for her own taste, the young man was standing in front of her once again, his face a mere few inches from her own. His stare was incredibly intense, his marine blue eyes becoming a pair of dark, dangerous pools she was finding herself lost in. "You really think you can fool us? We know who you are." As if he could barely hide his disgust, he looked her up and down and scowled as he muttered unkindly, "Trying to lie will only get you in trouble, so you might want to rethink before you open your mouth again."

And with that he was gone and Palom was lowering her gently to the ground, Porom already by her side, one hand cupping her elbow as she helped the Princess to her feet. "Ignore him." The girl stated calmly, not even glancing at the blonde's face to see the shock and indignation plastered there after the man's blatant rudeness towards her. "He has awful manners and an even more awful temper. He doesn't mean what he says — his hatred for Xehanort runs deep."

"That doesn't change the fact that I am not Xehanort's daughter, no matter what he believes!" Naminé growled, shirking away from the young woman's touch. She turned her glare on the two of them, despite knowing all too well that neither of them had any reason to deserve to be treated so. She merely felt the need to disperse her frustration. "I hate the man just as much as he does! He has done nothing but torment me all my life! If he indeed plots to end Xehanort's reign, I fully support the notion. But I refuse to be used as a bargaining chip. I am not some tool; I am a Princess, as so many of you like to point out. I refuse to be treated as such." She wrinkled her nose with distaste. "I should not be subjected to such treatment. I should not be in such a squalid place surrounded by such—!"

She exhaled suddenly, stopping herself from finishing her sentence, realising her outburst to be improper. Judging by the expressions ranging between surprise and hurt apparent on their young faces, Palom and Porom were reluctant to speak again. She pursed her lips, her brow furrowing as she shook her head and stalked past them into the camp, noting with some disdain that her hands were still bound. She held them awkwardly in front of her, not wishing to embarrass herself by asking the two twins — who were indeed the only people to have shown her any real kindness so far — for their assistance.

She felt disgusted with herself. Her mother had raised her better than this. If she wasn't so proud, she would apologise to them, however she was indeed terribly prideful so she merely settled for the knowledge that she would just have to make it up to them at some point during the future. It was not like she would be going anywhere anyway.

Naminé tossed her head and lifted her chin arrogantly, hoping to give off an air of superiority that would ward off any unwelcome visitors. She prayed it would work to her advantage — it was the only advantage she had after all.

As she stepped further into the camp she had aptly described as 'squalid', she meandered between the tiny looking tents she presumed offered them shelter from the elements. Towards the back of the camp, she noted a few ponies tied to a large post, where they grazed at the grass contentedly. She shuffled past them, all the while following the soft sounds of music suddenly lilting in the air. In search of the beautiful, sorrowful sound she walked past a particular tent which had its flap rolled up and secured by a large piece of gnarled rope. Inside, she discovered the source of the noise. A young man with dirty blond hair styled into the most ridiculous heap she had ever seems was strumming away at an instrument of sorts, his eyes scrunched shut as he played, a light smile toying about his lips. As if sensing her presence, however, his eyes soon snapped open and his playing stopped.

She found herself pleasantly surprised. His eyes were a warm aquamarine blue, nowhere near as harsh as Larxene's and were staring intently at her, curiosity swimming in their depths. "You the Princess?" He asked flippantly, leaning over the instrument cradled in his arms, his voice lazy and light. He cast an appraising eye over her, one eyebrow lifting inquisitively while she continued to stand there like a fool, unable to move from the spot.

After finding she was struggling to speak, she nodded curtly, jutting her chin out as she prepared for some form of insult. So far, both Larxene and that eerily familiar blond had insulted her and her title, so she found herself expecting as much of everyone else. Not that it mattered; she had withstood years of not so subtle barbs from people within her own family, so she was sure she could handle herself against a group of strangers.

The young man whistled lowly and grinned, not budging an inch from his lounging position. "Ax was right; you are quite the looker." His grin softened and he lifted a shoulder while Naminé tried not to blush and take offence at such an absurd comment. "I'm Demyx. I would welcome you and all, but you probably don't want to be here. I don't really blame you." He leaned forward again, and whispered in a conspiratorial tone, "They make us do work." At this, he grimaced distastefully, shaking his head once. "Unfortunately, I don't have anywhere else to go, especially as Xehanort destroyed my home..."

Naminé finally tore her gaze away and looked down, ashamed to even be related to such a horrid man. Apparently, Demyx took her despondency for discomfort and hurried to admonish himself, "Sorry, I know he's your father and all, but he's a bit of a rotten bloke."

Despite herself, Naminé smiled bitterly. "More than you know." She mumbled, ignoring the confused look Demyx shot her. She shook herself down and regained her stiff posture, faltering when the man continued to watch her with obvious scrutiny. "Farewell." She managed to utter shortly before stalking off again. What on earth was she supposed to say? While she was capable of being polite, this man was one of the many who was holding her captive and although his friendliness was a wonderful reprieve, she could not afford to become attached to any of them, especially as she did not plan on staying long. They may share a common hatred with Xehanort, but that was as far as their similarities went. She was a Princess and they...well, they were common criminals.

"You are the Princess." A deep voice barked from behind.

Unable to help herself, Naminé jumped and wheeled around to face the newcomer, lifting her arms to protect herself. It turned out to be an unneeded action as the man standing before her had his arms clasped behind his back, his otherworldly golden eyes watching her blandly. His face, she noted, was heavily scarred, a large 'X' criss-crossing his skin. She found herself absently thinking off her own scars as she lowered her arms and took a wary step back.

He noticed this and shifted his intimidating stance. "You need not fear me, Princess." He stated coolly, his face displaying no emotion, which unnerved her slightly.

"Naminé." She found herself blurting before she could stop herself. "My name is Naminé. I am somewhat tired of only being referred to as 'the Princess' all the time."

At this, his lips seemed to curl ever so slightly at the corners, his eyes sparked with amusement as he appraised her with a vague sense of approval. "You're strong. That is indeed a good sign. You will need to be strong." He waved a hand at her. "Follow me. I'll escort you to your quarters."

"I won't be left outside?" Naminé asked, surprised. She had expected their hospitality to be minimal, especially since they seemed to assume her father was the dreaded King of the Realm of Darkness.

The man glanced over his shoulder at her, an eyebrow raised, "If that is what you prefer, it can be arranged." The blonde frowned and shook her head once. The man immediately turned away again, a faint smirk appearing on his face. "Very well. This way, Naminé."

She noticed with some gratitude that he made a show of saying her name. The stranger continued to lead her through the camp, past Larxene and a person she could not determine whether to be male or female. They had bright pink hair reaching past their shoulders, a rather feminine face and a smirk which easily matched Larxene's. She suspected male, but she couldn't be sure. She was led away before she could come to a conclusion.

The man in front of her stopped short in front of a nearby tent, causing her to almost stumble over her own feet, but with quick reflexes, she recovered and stood a little straighter. The scarred man stepped aside and held an arm out as a sign of welcome. Uncertainly, Naminé passed by him and trod into the tent, her eyes scanning the space before her.

It was no palace, she noticed with some dry amusement. It was modestly furnished with nothing but a simple lumpy bed off to one side, a wooden box which acted as a night stand holding a worn wooden bowl, a ratty looking cloth and a stub of a candle. At the back of the tent there was a wooden screen where she could thankfully change and a towel of some sorts seemed to be hanging over the top of it. Aside from that, there was nothing but a sorry looking stool sat at the foot of the — _her_ — bed. She held back a noise of irritation as she began moving towards the bed, exhaustion overcoming her. It was then she realised that she had not slept in over twenty four hours and could use a long rest to recuperate. What else could she do anyway? She would not begin planning her escape until she had fully regained her strength.

"Will these quarters be adequate?" A gruff voice asked.

Naminé paused between the bed and the entrance, having entirely forgotten the man's presence. She turned to face him, schooling her features into an impassive mask. "It will do, I suppose." She remarked, making sure to hint at the disdain she felt by scrunching her nose.

The man's harsh golden eyes flashed and he snorted dispassionately. "Then I shall have someone fetch you when the commander wishes to see you."

"Oh, he wishes to see me, does he?" Naminé muttered flatly, her eyes narrowing into slits.

"That is what he informed me." The man replied, tilting his head to the side almost confusedly. "No matter. He will likely demand your presence later."

She felt anger thrumming through her veins. This _commander _sounded a lot like Xehanort, who had also demanded her presence on many occasions. She clenched her hands into fists and spat coldly, "If he _demands_ my presence then he should prepare to be bitterly disappointed." When the man regarded her with something resembling surprise, she held her head a little higher, her voice darkening considerably. "I will not be pushed around like a child nor will somebody _demand_ to see me. I am my own person and I wish to be treated with some amount of respect or I will not cooperate at all." She squared her shoulders bravely and continued, "If he truly wishes to speak with me, he can swallow his pride and seek me out himself, for I shall not come to him."

"Is that so?" The man asked, a sudden smirk blooming on his face. "Then I shall inform him immediately. Good day, Princess." Without another word, he swept from the tent and disappeared from sight, leaving her alone.

The first thing she did was release the rope which held up the flap of her tent before retiring to her bed, curling up on her side, her bound wrists settled against her chest. She was stuck in an awful predicament; while she was free of one set of chains, she had soon been shackled into another. The unfairness of it all struck her hard and she struggled not to let the hot tears building in her eyes spill over. Someone would come for her — they just had to. Even if it meant that her rescue would end with her returning back to that stifling hell hole, she didn't particularly care.

She would be somewhere familiar, surrounded by people she knew, even if they feared and despised her. At least people were intimidated by her and she was able to do as she pleased...

Unwillingly, her thoughts drifted to Aqua. What would she think upon discovering her disappearance? Would she have chance to mourn — if she wished to mourn at all — before Xehanort executed her? Something in the pit of her stomach stirred at the thought. She couldn't allow Aqua to die. Despite treating her poorly, the servant had done nothing but return this with kindness and a willing heart, which was a lot more than she deserved. And then there was the matter of her friend, Ventus. He would not take her death well and would surely follow suit. Xion, she noted with slight bitter amusement, would be crushed, but she could not bring herself to spare any sympathy for the girl. There was no love lost between her cousin and herself.

And still, she found herself worrying for Aqua. It wasn't like her to care and yet here she was, fearing for the woman's safety. She could only pray her death was quick.

**····» **₪** «····**

Shortly after their chat, Ven left her room with the promise that he would return straight to his own quarters and not make any stops on the way. While he had still seemed slightly shaky — with anger or something else, she couldn't quite tell — he had fixed her with a smile and disappeared into the night. Of course, Aqua still worried about him and she figured she always would, but she felt more relaxed knowing he wouldn't try something stupid which could easily get him killed.

She managed to get to sleep pretty easily afterwards and was awoken the next morning in the usual fashion — a loud banging noise echoing down the servants corridor signalling the start of a new day. Of course, while most servants chose to ignore the wake-up call and catch a few extra winks before starting on the daily chores, Aqua used this time to collect everything she would need to attend to the princess that morning, namely breakfast.

After washing herself in the small tin bath in the designated bathroom a few doors down, she combed her hair and dressed quickly, hurrying towards the kitchen ahead of the morning rush. She ducked into the stifling room which was already bustling with servants readying the meals for the day, dodging people moving to and fro in front of the newly cleaned stoves. She immediately pictured Ven and how he had slaved over cleaning them yesterday, frowning with disapproval as she noted the grime already beginning to appear on their surfaces.

She shook herself out of her daze when the cook who usually prepared the young princess' food called out to her. They were holding a tray in their hands, looking somewhat impatient as Aqua skirted round the edges of the stoves in order to get to them. It was immediately thrust into her awaiting arms by the grumbling woman, who was quick to turn away and busy herself with the next task at hand. As always, she didn't even bother speaking to the princess' maidservant and ignored her as if she were common filth, but Aqua wasn't phased. It was the same every single morning and she'd long since grown accustomed to the woman's stubborn ways.

While making her way out of the bustling room while carrying Naminé's food securely in her arms, Aqua blew her sweaty hair away from her forehead, glad to be free of the sweltering heat of the kitchen. While she knew she must hurry, her steps unintentionally slowed. A part of her was hesitant about seeing the young woman again, so soon after the incident which had occurred the night prior.

Even now, Aqua still couldn't get the image out of her mind. Naminé had reacted in such a frighteningly detached manner upon the discovery of her scars, dismissing her concerns wearily, like it didn't matter. She knew the princess as a stubborn, often pig-headed girl who cared for little other than herself, but how could she go back to acting that way now her secret had been revealed? She had seemed so broken, so emotionally damaged and Aqua was under the impression that was only scratching at the surface.

The truth of the matter was; she was afraid to face the girl. She no longer knew where she stood. Nevertheless, it was her duty to serve her and she would continue to do so.

And so, when Aqua found herself standing in the corridor outside of the princess' room in the tallest tower of the castle, she knocked straight away and called stiffly, "Miss Naminé, I've brought your breakfast." She was met with silence. In an attempt to elicit a response, she looked down at the rather delicious food pile delicately onto the china plate and added weakly, "It's your favourite."

Silence. Not a word of response. That in itself was strange. Naminé usually protested profusely about being woken so early and was prone to throwing objects at the door in defiance.

The young maiden felt her brow furrow as she knocked for a second time, slightly louder this time, tilting her head towards the door in search of any sounds. When none came, she sucked in a deep breath and barged in. "I'm sorry to burst in, princess, but I must—" She stopped, hovering in the doorway. For when she stared across at the luxurious bed dominating the majority of the room, it was empty. The covers were slightly rumpled, suggesting they had been disturbed at some point, but not slept in. Her bed clothes hung neatly where she had left them and the red dress she had worn to dinner was strangely absent. She had assumed Naminé would want to get rid of the wretched thing as soon as she could, so where was it hiding?

Aqua quickly crossed over to the dresser and set down the princess' rapidly cooling breakfast, her heart hammering. She checked behind the screen, in the ornate wardrobe pressed against the wall and even under the four-poster bed, despite knowing she wouldn't be caught dead in such places.

Her efforts were futile. The girl wasn't here. Aqua supposed she could have gotten up early and decided to visit the gardens. Or maybe she had become bored and holed herself up in the library for a spot of light reading before the day properly began. There had to be a perfectly reasonable explanation for her disappearance, Aqua reminded herself, refusing to think otherwise.

Not wanting to panic, Aqua left the room in a hurry, her feet slapping against the stone flooring and echoing eerily throughout the empty corridor. After descending the seemingly never-ending spiral staircase, she literally sprinted towards the library, ignoring any of the servants she passed by, even when they called after her, asking what was wrong. The terrible knot in her stomach told her not to stop, not to rest, not for anyone and she listened to it.

She came to a halt outside the library, her expression worried as she pushed open the doors and entered, searching amongst the floor to ceiling shelves for any sign of the girl. She often sat in the window seat facing out into the garden to read, surrounded by an array of books and mismatched pillows, but not today. She was absent from her usual spot and anywhere else within the library. Aqua hunted around the nooks and crannies of the large room once more, calling out for the girl, but she wasn't around. She wasn't anywhere to be seen.

Worry mounted within her. Naminé had to be nearby. There was no way she could have walked off in the middle of the night, not without being caught or stopped. It wasn't like her to do this. It wasn't like her to make such a cruel joke, even if it was at her expense.

The garden was her next best bet. It was turning out to be another beautiful morning, so she wouldn't be surprised if Naminé wanted to make the most of it while she still could. It was the last place other than her room or the library where the young princess could likely be found.

Aqua trekked through the halls like a woman possessed, her mind focused solely on the Princess within her care. She was so distracted by the thought of finding the girl safe and sound that she didn't even notice Ven running towards her until she almost mowed him down in her quest. When his face swam in her vision, she pulled up short, a gasp of surprise slipping past her lips. "Ven! What are you—?"

"I said good morning at least three times, but I don't think you heard me." He commented, his expression confused as he stared up at her flustered face. "Are you alright, Aqua? You looked stressed out already. It's barely even seven."

"Have you seen Naminé?" She demanded desperately, brushing off his attempts at a conversation, her hands latching onto his shoulders tightly. "Have you seen her anywhere?"

Ven's confused expression grew, his eyebrows creasing into a tight frown. "No... Isn't she usually in her room at this time?" He blinked once, his concern becoming evident. "She's not there? Is that why you're so worried?"

Defeated, Aqua dipped her head, nodding slowly. "She wasn't in her room when I came to deliver her breakfast this morning." She placed the back of her hand to her forehead, exhaling noisily, "I've looked everywhere for her. I was just about to check the garden. I don't know where else she'd go, or why."

The blond tried to smile, "I'm sorry, Aqua. I wish I could help, but Xion needs me this morning." He shrugged sadly and sighed, patting her arm comfortably. "Perhaps somebody else has seen her? Olette was in the garden when I went past a few minutes ago."

When Aqua nodded again, distracted, Ven shook her gently. "Don't worry." He soothed, a bright, encouraging smile appearing on his face. "She can't have gotten far. It's not the first time she's pulled something like this, right?"

Much to her dismay, she realised Ven was right. In fact, she had tried to escape in the past by creating a rope out of her least favourite dresses. She had been about to jump out of the window in one of the deserted corridors late at night, but a guard had stopped her and hauled her back to her room, kicking and screaming. Perhaps she had succeeded this time...? No. She couldn't afford to think like that. Xehanort would surely have her head. Failure simply wasn't an option — for Ven's sake she had to find the Princess.

With a new sense of determination, the young woman gritted her teeth and forced a smile. "Okay. You're right." She glanced down at her friend, her smile becoming genuine. "Thank you, Ven. I'll drop by at some point and see you later."

"Dinner's on me?" He joked, his grin widening.

Aqua laughed and ruffled his hair. "Soggy vegetables and rice? I can hardly wait."

She vaguely remembered registering his complains of protest as she shot off down the hall, her stomach tightening with dread and it wasn't at the thought of such horrid food. No, she just had an awful feeling that she wouldn't be seeing Ven for a long time.

By the time she made it to the garden and shaken the feeling which had momentarily consumed her, Olette was re-entering the castle, placing her gardening tools on the ground and wiping the mud off the front of her dress. She paused upon hearing Aqua approach and smiled warmly, waving at her in greeting. "Hey, Aqua!" The older woman didn't miss the nervous glance Olette cast around, in obvious search of Naminé, clearly relieved when she didn't see her in sight. This worried her. "Where's the Princess this morning?" She asked tentatively.

She didn't like the sound of this at all. If Olette was asking after her, then she could only assume she hadn't seen the girl that morning. Her brow furrowed. She could still hope. "You mean you haven't seen her in the garden?"

The brunette smiled regretfully, her earthy green eyes filled with obvious confusion as she replied softly, "No... I'm sorry. She's not out there." Her head cocked to the side as she noticed Aqua's pained expression. "Why? Is something wrong?"

"Are you sure, Olette?" She pressed, somehow managing to control the raw fear she felt raging around inside from slipping into her voice. "She didn't slip past you?"

For all she knew, Naminé as just hiding to spite her for yesterday — she couldn't determine the girl's reasons for doing what she often did, just as she couldn't determine where she could have disappeared off to. She had a horrible feeling something was terribly wrong. Her magic, which often stayed dormant within her until she called for it to heal Ven or herself, was thrumming through her veins at an alarming rate, like a silent, foreboding warning. She wanted to put it down to frayed nerves, but she couldn't be sure. Her magic had never steered her wrong before. She felt herself pale at the revelation.

At this point, Olette was clearly concerned. She reached out and placed a hand on her fellow maidservant's arm, speaking in a sincere, clear voice, "Aqua, I promise. She can't have gotten by me. I've been in the garden since dawn. I'm pretty sure I would have noticed her. She has to be nearby." When Aqua's face fell slightly, she squeezed her arm. "I'm sorry, I'm not much help."

Despite the horrifying pinch resounding in her gut, she forced herself to smile warmly at her young friend, stepping away from her outstretched hand. "No, not at all. I'll check her room once more." She cleared her throat and added cheerfully as she turned to leave, "She's probably reappeared by now and I'm just worrying for nothing."

The girl looked up at her with an encouraging smile, her small hands clapping delightfully. "That's the spirit!" She chorused happily. "I'll see you around, Aqua!" She grabbed the gardening tools by her feet and rushed off in the opposite direction, pausing only to wave back at her.

Aqua waved back hesitantly, cringing when her spine started tingling unpleasantly, filling her with the oddest sensation that she was being watched. Uncertainty, she peered over her shoulder and the feeling suddenly vanished. Putting it down to her current, somewhat desperate situation, she shrugged it off and began heading back to the Princess' room.

She needed to be alone to figure out what she was going to do. For all she knew — and she couldn't help but wish it were true — the Princess was probably watching on from a distance, laughing hysterically as she ran about the place like a fool searching for her, but the insistent tug deep in her stomach said otherwise. And that was what frightened her. If her instincts were right, Naminé wasn't in the castle and Aqua was in serious trouble. If Xehanort were to find out she had gone missing under her watch, she would be dead before the sun rises.

Less than ten minutes later, Aqua was standing in the corridor outside of Naminé's room. A loud banging noise met her ears and she found herself drawn towards it, as if it would reveal Naminé's strange disappearance. The window looking out over the forest was open, slapping back and forth on its hinges, flailing around in the wind. She crossed over to it and immediately closed it, feeling angry with herself for a number of reasons. For one, she should have made sure the princess was alright before leaving her so easily last night. For another, she should have checked on her sooner — she'd been feeling uneasy for a while and she hadn't acted upon it—

The banging that filled the air was louder this time.

Aqua whirled on the window, her eyes wide. It was open, flapping relentlessly in the howling wind, demanding her attention.

She carefully sidled up to it, pulling it back towards her so she could examine it closely. Its hinges were slightly loose and its latch completely shattered; no wonder it had come free so easily. But what really caught her eye were the strange scratch marks lining the side of the wooden pane. It were almost as though someone had tried to jiggle the latch from the out—

And that's when it finally occurred to her. Restlessly, she stuck her head out of the window and reached around underneath the ledge jutting out over the side of the castle. Her fingers brushed against something that wasn't stone, but a sudden arm around her waist jerked her back inside before she could investigate any further.

In a surge of panic, her magic reared up protectively and electrocuted the stranger's arm holding her. But it didn't seem to affect them as they spun her around and shoved her up against the nearest wall. She let out a gasp of pain as her head slammed against the hard surface and blinked away the dots splattered across her vision.

Standing menacingly in front of her was a masked individual wearing a strangely organic looking black and red bodysuit, one hand resting confidently on their hip. Judging by their scarily muscular build, the person was a male and not someone to be toyed with. The masked boy took a step closer to her, snapping an arm out to pin her in place when she tried to shrink away from him.

Was he the reason for Naminé's disappearance? Had he hurt her? The very thought caused a jolt of anger to spark into existence inside of her, her magic simmering just beneath her skin, sending soft crackles through her veins. But before she could release it, the air was knocked clean out of her when the boy delivered a sharp blow to her stomach.

She doubled over, wheezing as she tried to breathe while he knelt down in front of her, a hand snaking out to grab her chin, lifting her face toward him. She glanced up at him defiantly, twisting her face away, but he held fast, a dark chuckle slipping past his lips. "Now that I know you won't be able to attack me, just what the hell do you think you're doing?"

Aqua felt her eyes widen out of surprise despite herself. He sounded young — a lot younger than she had expected, maybe no older than Ven — but dangerous nonetheless. She tried to call her magic back to defend herself, but it was useless. It was as though her energy had been tapped into and absorbed. He was right; she couldn't attack him. She was powerless.

Still barely breathing, she managed to cough out hoarsely, "Who...are...you?"

If she could have seen his face, Aqua would have sworn he was grinning. His voice heavy with sarcasm, he hissed, "I serve Xehanort, what else matters?"

Her heart slid into her stomach. If he indeed served Xehanort, then she was done for. If he found out about Naminé she would be dead and Ven left alone. Above everything else, she couldn't allow that to happen to him. He deserved so much better... Struggling to keep her voice even, she whispered, "What do you want?"

"Oh, nothing." He replied flippantly, sitting back on his haunches and releasing her jaw, his helmet obscuring his eyes which went undoubtedly roaming over her. She felt disgustingly naked. "I just can't help but notice you appear to have misplaced a certain Princess. Kidnapped sometime during the night, I believe." He tutted tauntingly, wagging his finger in front of her face.

Aqua's chest constricted with pain and she doubled over again, clutching one hand to her chest. Naminé really was gone — kidnapped because of her. But who would have taken her? Why would they have taken her? But most importantly — how did this boy know?

"What have you done to Naminé?" She cried angrily, clutching at her stomach as she forced herself to sit upright, her lips curling into a fierce scowl. "How did you know she was missing? Are you the one who took her?"

If at all possible, the boy's presence became even more menacing. He leaned in towards her, his voice low, "Do not associate me with that common filth. I did not kidnap your precious Princess." He sat back again, his laugh dark and humourless, "If Xehanort were to find out about your indiscretion you'd be in serious trouble."

She couldn't help it — she panicked. As much as she wanted to find the princess, she needed to put her own safety first. "You can't tell him. Please, you can't." She pleaded, knowing full well it was useless. He was a servant of the man; it was highly unlikely he would keep her mistake a secret. But Ven's face swam behind her eyes and she knew she had to try, for his sake. "I can't afford to die — my friend needs me."

"That's right." The boy practically cackled, rising steadily to his feet and swinging his arms back and forth, displaying the raw muscle hidden within the sinewy limbs. "Poor, defenceless little Ventus..." He trailed off and sighed dramatically.

For a moment, she was certain her life flashed before her eyes, each and every little regret she had cropped up in her mind to haunt her. She hadn't lived a very fulfilling life at all. The only good thing about it was Ven, and at times, Naminé. She wished she had tried harder to connect with the girl. But it was too late now. She was going to die. Her pleading had fallen on deaf ears.

She was about to resign to defeat, when his voice sounded again, filled with annoyance, "Fine, you've twisted my arm. I'll keep your secret...if you do something in return for me."

She saw her chance and she took it, blurting out before she could stop herself, "What do you want?"

His dark chuckle soured the soaring feeling in her stomach, "Oh in good time, bluebird I'll keep you posted." He flicked a hand at her, rolling his shoulders. "For now, just work on finding the Princess."

"How am I supposed to do that?" Aqua asked coldly, her eyes following him as he walked over to the window she had been investigating moments ago. She was still suspicious of the young man's motives and was careful not to get her hopes up, out of the fear that he could turn on her at any second.

"How should I know?" He snorted and offered her an indifferent shrug, half turning towards her. "I'm sure you'll figure out something. Between you and me, I'd figure it out fast." He tapped his helmet and chuckled. "I won't be able to keep Xehanort off you for long."

Aqua sat a little straighter, her stomach still throbbing painfully and her mind reeling. "Why are you helping me?"

He paused and seemed to consider this. "I suppose you intrigue me. Either way, do not make the mistake of assuming your safety is of my concern. I couldn't care whether you live or die, but I am interested as to see how long you last." He chuckled darkly and saluted her lazily, moving to saunter away, but suddenly thought better of it and turned back towards her, "And by the way. You might want to work on being subtle. Flashing your magic around like that is just another way for you to get killed around here. That's the second time I've caught you practising now."

The second time...? Was he the reason for her uneasiness the other day, when she had healed Ven?

Loaded with enough information to make her head hurt, Aqua felt as though he had just punched her for a second time. Her life rested solely in that boy's hands — a servant of Xehanort, the very man who would kill her on the spot for losing Naminé and certainly destroy her upon learning about her magic. He didn't care about her at all — she merely served as a momentary point of amusement for the boy. She would be dead the moment he had tired of her. With that, she slumped forwards, one hand reaching up to cup her head.

This was her mess — her own — and she had to fix it. Not just for herself, but for Ven and Naminé too.

She sat there, pressed against the cold wall as she tried desperately to conjure a plan, a course of action, anything — when her mind suddenly flitted to the prisoner locked away in the dungeons beneath the castle. And just like that, it were as though the last puzzle piece had been slid into place. He had tried to kidnap Xion and within twenty four hours, someone kidnapped Naminé instead. It wasn't a coincidence. It couldn't be. Ven had so rightly pointed out that there _were_ no coincidences.

Her heart suddenly hammered loudly in her chest. While that was all well and good, there was one rather weighty issue bearing down on her. Indeed, he most probably was the only person who could lead her to the missing princess, but he was due to be hanged in less than four hours. She would have to do something, and fast.

With nothing better to occupy her time with, Aqua set about making preparations to pay the prisoner a visit.

**····» **₪** «····**

Naminé hadn't even realised she had fallen asleep on the uncomfortable straw bed that had been provided to her until her tent flap was opened and a small figure stepped inside, clearing their throat to gain her attention.

Within seconds she was sitting bolt upright, momentarily confused by her unfamiliar surroundings before everything came rushing back. Of course; she was still kidnapped. She had desperately hoped that it had all been a somewhat unpleasant dream, but apparently she wasn't so lucky. With a dispassionate sigh, she flopped against the straw mattress beneath her and cast the intruder an icy stare.

Porom was holding a pile of clothes awkwardly in her arms, her eyes looking everywhere but at the Princess' face as she stepped into the tent, her voice small, "I was told to bring you fresh clothes so you can change out of your attire. You must be quick. Our leader wishes to see you."

At this, Naminé swung her legs over the side of the bed and kept her spine straight as she cradled her stiff wrists in her lap. "I believe I told that scarred man I will not be ordered around." She tossed her head and added haughtily, "If your leader truly wishes to see me, then he can seek me out himself and not act like such a spoiled brat."

The young woman's gaze immediately snapped to the blonde's face, her mouth hanging open slightly. She hastily composed herself upon receiving Naminé's disapproving glance and stared down at her feet, "Forgive me. It's just...I've never heard anyone outright refuse the commander's wishes. He can be pretty frightening when angry." Suddenly, Porom giggled. It was a bright and beautiful sound and Naminé felt her stare soften. The young woman clearly meant well and had no intention of offending the princess and yet she had treated her so cruelly within minutes of meeting her. Before she could express her regret, the girl continued, "I admire you for that. You're very brave. If I were in your situation I don't think I could find the courage to stand up to him."

"It wasn't a matter of finding the courage — I had to." Naminé explained, a delicate frown reaching her features. "I can't afford to be frightened. Even if I am, I need to be brave. What use would sitting around feeling sorry for myself do?" She shrugged slowly, glancing over at Porom with a wary smile. "Besides, I refuse to let a man intimidate me. Xehanort has tried and failed to break me ever since I was a child. I am accustomed to a man's need for dominance."

A sincere expression suddenly appeared on Porom's young face. She took a step closer to the seated Princess, murmuring quietly, "What you said before — about Xehanort not being your father — were you telling the truth?" The hard shine present in the young woman's gaze was clearly gauging her reaction, judging whether or not she would tell the truth and in all honesty, Naminé wasn't sure what she would end up doing.

The Princess looked down at her bound wrists, feeling uncertain. Should she lie? Should she say that she only wanted to be free and would have done whatever it took to escape? Or was Porom worthy of the truth? Would she even believe her? What would it matter anyway? Her leader would never let her leave now — he would not be convinced no matter what she claimed or tried to explain to him. Even before meeting him, she could tell that she already knew exactly what kind of man he was going to be. Arrogant, selfish, demanding and utterly annoying. Like Xehanort for the most part.

She swallowed at the thought, and her mind decided as she murmured, "It is...it is true." She met Porom's gaze, keeping her expression cold and impassive. "He is not my father."

For a while, Porom seemed to consider this, leaning on her staff as she cast her unrelenting gaze across the Princess' face, as if searching for a lie. When she apparently found none, she straightened and tucked her staff under her arm, her eyes bright with curiosity, "Then who is he to you? I know you aren't a servant—" She gestured lightly to the rich garments swathing Naminé's form, a smile tugging at her lips, "—I know a Princess when I see one."

Naminé lifted her shoulders in a half shrug and shook her head once, murmuring rigidly, "My real father died when I was young and Xehanort... Well, he took me in shortly after. As for who he is to me? That's a good question." She shifted uncertainty, dropping her eyes away from the young woman now standing before her, holding her wrists a little closer to her chest. "He is supposed to be my Uncle, but he doesn't act like one. He is cruel." At this, she let out a rather dark chuckle. "I can truly say that I am glad to be free of him."

Porom said nothing for a moment, her expression pained as she stared down at the bundle of clothes in her arms. Suddenly, she looked up tentatively, fiddling with her staff uncertainly, "I'm sorry you got dragged into this. Our leader — he's strong and he wants what's best for the land, but he goes about it the wrong way and makes decisions that often do not make much sense." A rueful smile appeared on her face and she cocked her head to the side, "If it is of any consolation, I can promise that you won't come to any harm under our care. I'll personally make sure of it."

No matter how much she wanted to, Naminé found she couldn't smile in return. She felt as though her heart had been encased in ice. While a part of her desperately longed for an ally — somebody other than herself to confide in — she had to remember that they were planning to use her to their own means and ends. 'They' also included Porom. Her expressing of kindness toward the Princess was little more than a show, she had to remind herself of this. They did not care for her — nobody cared for her. She could count on nobody but herself and it was high time she accepted that. Porom was no different.

Fearing she had already revealed too much about herself, the Princess sat a little straighter, her voice becoming hard, "The circumstances are quite regrettable. For now I will accept this show of hospitality, mostly because I am tired and feel as though I cannot fight you against this right now. But make no mistake — I cannot accept your leader's decision and I will fight for my freedom." She kept her face impassive, noticing the confused, hurt expression crossing Porom's features. "I know of my purposes here. Your _commander _should know that I do not plan to roll over and take his demands lightly. That also means that I will not be at his beck and call whenever he seeks my audience."

For what it was worth, Porom took her words with as much grace as one could manage. While her features were marred with obvious conflicting emotions, she nodded once, seeming to understand what had caused the sudden shift in the princess. She held the clothes in her arms out to the princess hastily. "I believe these clothes will fit you, although they are not of the quality you are used to." When Naminé took the clothes from her with her awkwardly bound hands, Porom leaned forwards and released her with a flick of her staff. Before she could comprehend what had just happened, the woman straightened, grasping her staff tightly as she spoke, her becoming voice strained, "If you wish to bathe, let me know. I will be outside after I have informed the commander you...won't be complying to his wishes."

And with that, Naminé was left alone again.

She rubbed her wrists gratefully, sighing happily as the sensation began to creep back into her weary limbs after being tied together for so long. They were red and raw, as to be expected, but she didn't care for she was free at last!

With nothing else better to do, she eyed the clothes settled in her lap, picking out the dark pants and holding them at arm's length. They were made of sturdy material, but looked awfully uncomfortable and were not something any woman would wear. She had been brought up wearing gowns! To suddenly dress herself in what appeared to be a man's attire would be wildly inappropriate. However, it soon became apparent that the pants were not the worst item present in her new wardrobe. What she found even more offending was the dark blue tunic she had been oh-so pleasantly gifted with. It looked much too big for her lithe form and definitely looked like it had been washed too many times, meaning it was barely befitting of a princess such as herself. The final item left stranded on her lap was a pair of worn brown leather boots which she immediately decided she would not be wearing under any circumstances. She would much prefer to remain barefoot, even under the chances she might catch her delicate feet on something unpleasant.

Naminé tossed the items of clothing onto the bed beside her and huffed, standing on a pair of unsteady legs as she tossed a wary glance towards the tent opening. Not wanting to risk being caught in an attempt of an escape, she chose to take a poke around. She had just started to pace the tiny confines of her new home in search of something to spark her interest, when the tent flap was forcefully thrown open for a second time.

She immediately wheeled around on the intruder, her glare smouldering only for it to falter when she recognised the young man standing in the entrance, his face distorted with anger. It was him again — the one from earlier.

Her glare melted away into a scornful stare as she regarded him disdainfully. "Do you know that it is impolite not to knock?"

Instead of answering, the blond stalked right up to her, his hands shaking with barely contained fury by his sides. With nowhere else to go, she had no choice but to allow him to back her right up until the backs of her calves connected with her lumpy mattress. Before she could retort, he shoved his face in close vicinity of her own. The entire time, Naminé didn't even flinch, not even when his hand shot out to grab her sore wrist.

Mildly surprised by his actions, she stared into his intense blue eyes, her lips parting with discomfort as he leaned in even closer and hissed dangerously, "When I demand your presence, you would do well to heed my word, otherwise — Princess or not — you will soon find your stay here to be somewhat unpleasant."

Two things shot through the Princess' mind. One; he was threatening her and two; he was the fearless leader everyone seemed to revere. _Him_. The blond man who bore an uncanny resemblance of the young servant Aqua was so fond of, the very man who had stalked out to meet her as she arrived at camp. He also happened to be the very man who was holding her captive against her will, all in favour of declaring war against Xehanort.

In less than two seconds flat, Naminé was trembling with rage, her eyes darkening and narrowing. She wrenched her hand free of his and met his glare with an icy one of her own, her voice taking on a deadly tone, "And I will not be ordered around like some child! You can threaten me all you like — that will elicit nothing but anger from me. Continue to treat me like a slave and I will make things exceedingly difficult for you." She closed the ever-small gap between them, her eyes sparking with challenge as she resisted the urge to jab him in the chest with her thumb, "If you do not think you can handle it, you may as well kill me now, for I will not bow to your wishes like your loyal followers. I am a _Princess._ I do not relent to those beneath me."

The man stared at her for a moment longer, his cold eyes searching hers before he pulled back, letting out a bark of laughter. "You're exactly like what I pictured Xehanort's daughter to be — arrogant, insolent and disgustingly self-important." He cast her a glance, his lips curled into a sneer. "You rival even the man himself."

While she couldn't deny she had an egotistical issue, she didn't like how he had worded his speech. The comparison to Xehanort should have made her angry — and it did indeed — but more than anything, his words stung. To be compared so harshly to the man when she was barely even related to him hurt a lot more than she cared to let on, especially after the torture he willingly put her through daily. To be told that she was much like the man who taunted her so cruelly since she was no older than a child was mind-reeling and somewhat sickening. But she couldn't let that show. Instead, she lifted her chin arrogantly and looked down her nose at him, "I will not allow you to insult me so. Are you incapable of any sense of decorum? A woman should be treated with respect, not insulted."

He snorted derisively, ignoring her demeaning comment all together. "You? A _woman_? You're barely older than a child. A spoilt, arrogant child who has been presented every little thing she could ever hope to desire since birth. Forgive me if I find it hard to treat you with any respect, for I have learnt that respect is earned. You, Princess, have not earned it and probably never will." He turned his nose up at her and wheeled away. "I doubt I can ever stand your insufferable presence. Nor do I want to. As much as I would enjoy cutting out your tongue, I will refrain from doing so. Consider that the length of my courtesy to you."

Naminé felt dangerously close to screaming in his face as she watched him, disgusted, spitting hoarsely, "You're despicable."

In a blink of an eye, the young man was facing her again, his face contorted with plain fury as he stepped insanely close to her, "Xehanort has slaughtered _innocent_ people, burned down _villages_ who offered him no threat and waged a _war_ against _my_ Realm." He stepped away like her presence burned him, his voice lowering to a hiss, "I fight for peace, to bring that revolting excuse of a king down. I fight to avenge those he has wronged and rescue those who still live. I plan to free the Realm from his influence." He cocked his head to the side and smiled mockingly down at her from his infuriating height advantage. "Tell me; who is more despicable?"

Although she knew he had a clear and simple point, Naminé felt an incessant urge to protect her heritage. She prodded him in the chest, declaring heatedly, "You kidnapped me for your own means! You took me away from home, from my—"

The blond let out a sharp, crude laugh as he continued to look down on her, glaring. "Oh, I apologise for taking you from the luxury of your cushy palace, from your father who _desperately_ loves you and from your servants who are at your _every_ beck and call." His voice was filled with sarcasm and barely concealed barbs — he was someone who came from nothing, someone who fought tooth and nail just to survive. Her complaining words had apparently hit a nerve, but so had his.

Drawing herself up to her full height — which was not particularly high in comparison to the man towering before her — and placed her hands threatening on her hips as she shouted, "You know _nothing_ of my life!" She prodded him again, swelling with triumph when he growled. "_Nothing!_ Do not claim to."

He scoffed. "I know enough, Princess. I know enough." He turned to leave, but apparently thought better of it, stepping close enough to her that she felt his warm breath fanning against her cheeks and felt the heat fuelled by his anger radiate into her own. She did not flinch nor back down, returning his hard stare with her own as he bit out coldly, "If I call for you in the future, you will respond, otherwise I will have you sleep outside."

Naminé let out an indignant gasp, "You can't—!"

"I can." He snapped, cutting her off. His eyes seemed to darken, as if daring her to challenge his authority but she remained quiet. "Do I make myself clear?" He barked.

She continued to remain silent, ignoring his question. Now she knew who this man was and just what he was capable of, she knew she would have to tread lightly if she were to survive the following days. She would keep herself to herself, search around the camp when she could, plan her means of escape and flee into the wilderness. She did not care if she lost her way — she would rather be any place but here.

Suddenly, his hand clamped onto her wrist and he tugged it sharply, clearly still waiting for her reply. Unable to help herself, Naminé cried out, her skin still sore from the bonds from which she had only recently been released. She wouldn't be surprised if they had irritated the burns marring the flesh around the base of her palm.

While his glare remained in place, his grip softened as he pulled her arm towards him, twisting it around to inspect it closely. She tried to yank free, not wanting him to see the secret branded onto her body, but his fingers were latched firmly around the circle of her thin wrist, preventing any escape.

Naminé resisted his pull, choking out hysterically, "Don't!" Thankfully, he paused, his head still tipped towards her wrist. She struggled to contain her desperate pleas, her voice shaking as she added quietly, "Please, release my arm."

He glanced up and met her stricken gaze. His blue eyes widened ever so slightly at the sight, his lips parting as if he wanted to question her, but apparently thought better of it. He watched her for a moment longer, searching her face with his intense gaze while she squirmed a little, trying her hardest to pull away from his magnetic stare only to find it impossible. It were as though they were locked in a never-ending glare; he feverishly sought her secrets and she desperately fought to hide them. And it was then that a look of understanding flickered across his face and his eyebrows furrowed into a deep frown.

Before she even knew what was happening, the moment between them shattered and he finally complied with her request, letting her wrist slip through his fingers. The Princess dropped her arm to her side, hiding it behind the cloak still resting around her shoulders, relieved that he had even listened to her. While she was grateful, she refused to voice this and instead ducked her head away from his penetrating stare.

For a moment there, she had been so certain that he would have discovered her scars and fixed her with that horrified look she knew so well. People were scared and horrified by her — not only was she considered a witch, but she was unfathomably cold and mysterious, adding to the suspicion in the hearts of those who surrounded her. The last thing she needed was for a complete stranger to look at her in the same way — she would prefer being hated any day.

"You're hiding a dark secret." He stated calmly. "I know what that feels like."

Naminé clenched her eyes shut, not wanting to hear another word pass his lips. She wished he would go back to being the hateful self he had been not moments ago. He was almost being kind, or perhaps he pitied her. She hated the mere idea.

She also hated how he seemed to be able to stare directly into the soul, sniffing around inside her head, nitpicking at her most private of thoughts — and she didn't even know his name yet. That in itself unnerved Naminé.

She was so used to being impenetrable, unreadable, stoic... But she knew this man threw all of that into the gutter. She felt naked standing before him, her secrets and deepest darkest laid bare. Of course, that was ridiculous, as he could no more read minds than she could, but his intense stare gave her the impression that he knew a lot more about her than she was willing to reveal. It frightened her.

"I will not press you, as it is none of my business." He continued, his voice gruff and hollow. "If you need anything, Porom will attend to you." Almost as an afterthought, he added coldly, "As you are living with us now, it would be wise to bide by our rules. Do not attempt to leave, or there will be grave consequences."

She heard the echoes of his footsteps as he walked away from her, waiting for him to leave before reopening her eyes. He seemed to pause for a moment, as if debating something, but he apparently disregarded this and left.

Slowly, Naminé's eyelids snapped open and she stared across at the tent flap swaying gently in the summer breeze in the young man's absence. She was alone and this time, it didn't bother her. She was too confused to care.

His entire presence perplexed her. He was unlike any man she had ever met before — he was rude and obnoxious and arrogant but at the same time he seemed to display an almost vulnerable side to him which made her think twice about him. All the same — she knew she could not afford to stay.

Above all else, there was one thing she knew for sure — no matter what, she had to escape.

* * *

**A/N:** I realise these last few chapters have been a bit Aqua-centric. This is partly because I am rather fond of her and also because her part of the story is quite important — for now, anyway. In this chapter, she obviously met Vanitas, who — while a minor character for the most part — will have an important role later on. In addition, she is planning to meet with Terra which I think is also a fairly pivotal moment in the story, as not only will it open us up to the BBS trio, but it will eventually be what links Aqua in with Naminé's story.

Speaking of... Naminé has finally met Roxas and they hate each other. I guess you can say their relationship will develop over time. That means that there won't be much romance until much later on, but seeing as this is also an adventure fic, I can't focus solely on romance all the time.

As you may have noticed, I've also included two wonderful characters from Final Fantasy IV — the awesome Palom and Porom! Of course, there are characters from Organization XIII thrown in there for obvious reasons, but I'm particularly fond of those twins. I plan to have a few other Final Fantasy characters making their appearance, but as this fic is chiefly Kingdom Hearts based, they won't be as important and I'll be focusing mainly on Roxas and Naminé in future chapters.

Anyway! Enough of my rambling. I do hope you guys liked this chapter! Reviews and general feedback are greatly appreciated as I love to hear your opinions on how I'm handling this fic so far. I'll see you all when I update.

Until next time!

_~AusisWinds-13_


	4. Conflicted

**A/N: **And here's the fourth chapter for you all! ^^ I'm currently holed up in bed with a hot water bottle, dosed up on several different medicines, sniffling my way through a bowl of chicken soup, so forgive me if there are a few mistakes — I may have missed a few errors when editing it today. D:

Thank you for all of the reviews, I cherish each and every one of them. :3 Now, enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any Kingdom Hearts or Final Fantasy characters!

* * *

**Chapter Four :: Conflicted**

Roxas was terribly confused following his conversation with the Princess. Such feelings were unusual to him, so he decided to convert it to the one emotion he knew he could control; anger. He began pacing agitatedly around in his tent, one hand lost in his wild hair as he struggled to keep himself together. If he had known the Princess would have affected him so violently, he would have ordered Axel and Larxene to drop her out in the woods and leave her to rot. But of course, this was not an option available to him — she was the key to rescuing Terra and Riku was depending on him to bring his brother back alive.

And this is how Saïx found him a few hours later. He was still pacing, his expression enraged, his eyes dark and narrowed as he kicked at the chair standing in front of his desk, sending it toppling to the ground with a muffled thud. He let out a low growl and lifted his leg to kick at it again, but seemed to think better of it, his shoulders slumping in defeat as he turned around to face him, still unaware of the other man's presence. His thoughts were still plagued with the irritating princess living on the other side of the camp, but his thoughts weren't the pleasant type at all.

Yet, as insufferable as she was, he couldn't get her out of his mind, no matter how much he tried. At first, he thought it was perhaps he felt guilty for kidnapping her, but he soon disregarded this; why should he feel guilt for such a thing? His second reasoning for not being able to remove her from his thoughts was because she was the first human being — aside from those within his company, of course — that he had come into contact with in well over several months.

Roxas moved to pace again, but paused, a peculiar feeling rippling through him.

He glanced up suddenly, managing to place the peculiar feeling — he was being watched — and immediately noticed Saïx standing in the opening to his tent. The man looked vaguely amused by his outburst and Roxas had the decency to feel slightly disgruntled as he straightened himself hurriedly, scowling openly at his second in command as he muttered coldly, "Saïx? Is there a reason you're here? I have not called for you."

The older man lifted one shoulder in a non-committal shrug and took a step into the space, his hands clapping respectfully behind his back in a manner the blond found himself appreciating. At least someone remembered their place, unlike one person he could think of. "I have no reason for being here, no. I am merely curious as to what you think of the girl." When Roxas let out a low scoff of scorn, Saïx clearly struggled to hold back a smirk as he added in an offhanded manner, "I had the pleasure of meeting her earlier. She possesses quite a fiery nature, which certainly makes her an intriguing princess."

The blond hastily righted his abandoned chair and sunk into it with a long-suffering sigh. He should have known that Saïx would come nosing sooner or later, although he was silently thankful — it could have been Axel who had decided to visit him. The very thought soured his mood even further as he ground out in a tight voice, "She is arrogant and terribly self-important. I want nothing more than to cut out her tongue and send her back to Xehanort in pieces." He ran a hand over his face, as if to wipe away the distasteful frown seemingly etched into his features. "I cannot stand her. I won't lose any sleep if I never have to interact with her again." He looked up at Saïx suddenly, his hand falling from his face which was distorted with anger as he remembered why he was so confu— no; angry, he reminded himself — in the first place. "Did you know she _refused_ my audience? The spoilt brat refused _me_!"

In all of the time he had spent as leader to the Organization, he had never once been refused by his subordinates, not ever, but as soon as this girl came waltzing in, everything went to hell and he finally discovered what the word 'disobedience' truly meant. He wanted to flog her for her incompetence, but once, again he knew it wasn't an option. Xehanort would want her back in one piece if he was ever going to release Terra. If only there were some way he could find a loophole...

Meanwhile, the scarred man couldn't say that he was overly surprised by the news. From what the young princess had conveyed to him during their brief time together, she was not the type to be pushed around by anyone. Her rebellious nature would pose a challenge for Roxas, a challenge he would almost certainly learn to relish, or at least that is what he chose to believe. Roxas wasn't the type to back down from a challenge, after all. "As I said, sir, she has quite a fiery nature." Saïx kept his tone level, staring past his commander's head and fixing his gaze on one of the many maps of Xehanort's fortress, disinterested and impassive. "I daresay she rivals even Larxene's temperament, which is indeed something rather rare."

At this, Roxas let out a resounding, unattractive snort, curling his lip up in contempt. "She surpasses Larxene's temper alright, even if it is only by a small amount. That does not make her any less irritating." He pressed a hand to his forehead, his fingers seeking out the headache building behind his temples. Speaking of Larxene... He knew he would have to speak with her and Axel sooner or later, unless the latter made an appearance between now and then, which wouldn't surprise him. He had asked them to conduct reconnaissance during their mission to apprehend the Princess and he'd hoped that they would have something to show for it.

He looked over at Saïx — who had now turned his golden eyes back on him — and quickly pinched the bridge of his nose. "Can I ask you to assign someone to keep an eye on her?" When the man raised an eyebrow questioningly, the blonde managed a small smirk as he muttered dryly, "I have a feeling our dearest guest will try something foolish sooner or later and we don't want her escaping before the end of her uses."

A look of understanding flickered across Saïx's face and he nodded curtly, "Of course." He thought for a moment, his golden eyes narrowing with concentration. "I think Porom would make a decent candidate. I think she likes the girl and would probably find it easier to get through to her, although I would have to run it by her first."

Roxas waved him off lazily, running a hand through his hair. "I'm sure Porom can handle the Princess." He shrugged heavily, showing that he did not particularly care either way. "If she is not comfortable with it, tell her to come and see me and I'll get Larxene to watch over her."

Apparently his second in command didn't approve of this and was quick to voice his opinion, "Is that wise? I heard Larxene threatened to kill the Princess and was the one to knock her out." He knew very well what the young woman was like when she got into one of her infamous moods — for a while, Demyx had the bruises to show for it and Axel hadn't gotten away from her completely unscathed in the past. The fact that she had an exceedingly short temper in almost any situation certainly didn't help matters any. He frowned, not wanting to imagine what Larxene would do to the princess if she got her hands on her. In an attempt to convey his disapproval, he added meaningfully, "Not even Axel was able to keep her in line."

The blond remained unperturbed, a light smirk flitting across his lips at the thought of Larxene getting into one of her particularly 'foul' moods around the Princess. When he spoke, his tone was light and flippant, "At least the girl won't underestimate her."

"Should I ask Larxene then?" Saïx asked guardedly, wavering by the entrance as he waited for his commander's verdict.

For a while, Roxas seriously considered the possibility, but decided an alive princess was better than a dead one. With a regretful sigh, he muttered darkly, "No, no. Porom can look after her." Unable to help himself, he chuckled softly, "I'm sure she wishes to have a break from her brother by now."

Saïx grunted in agreement, bowed and left the tent without another word to find Porom and deliver the news. In the meantime, Roxas swivelled around in his chair to pour over the maps of Xehanort's fortress which he had started to update. Their battlements had been improved since their last recon mission and there were more and more guards posted in the watchtowers overlooking the forests, which would make a stealthy attack near impossible. Axel and Larxene had been able to sneak by through pure and simple luck, but with an entire army, Roxas didn't think they would have the same amount of fortune. He could only hope that the princess would be enough of a bargaining chip that they wouldn't have to resort to the second plan.

He knew Saïx doubted his methods, even though he was ridiculously loyal no matter what was asked of him, and Roxas had to agree that an all-out attack on Castle Oblivion would be suicide. While his hatred for Xehanort was great, needlessly risking his men in his bid for revenge was not something he wanted to do.

He felt his face crumple with a mixture of rage and despair at the thought of Xehanort — the man had stolen everything from him overnight, burning down his village and swiping his family's life from their bodies as easily as one would pluck a flower from the earth.

Of course, he had survived the terrifying ordeal and had to live with the pain of knowing he was all alone in the world, yet despite this he soon found himself working in King Ansem's castle as a lowly kitchen boy. For a time in quite a long while, he had been almost happy with his life, but the peace hadn't lasted. Soon, Xehanort attacked his own brother right at the heart of his Realm shortly following the destruction of the major towns surrounding the castle and destroyed his home, as well as his slowly growing family. The King and Queen perished in the fire along with many of the servants who hadn't managed to escape. As for the young Princess, he had always suspected her to be dead.

If he was truly honest with himself, those memories of his time in Ansem's castle weren't something Roxas liked to relive, even though they were some of the happiest memories he could recall from his younger life. He was constantly reminded of his failure — his inability to save those who had died. For so long, he had carried the weight of their deaths — the deaths of his younger brother and parents also — on his shoulders, vowing for revenge against the despicable creature who had caused such death and sorrow to sweep through the lands.

An unimaginably warm hand suddenly landed on his shoulder, breaking him out of his vengeful thoughts. Roxas let out a yelp of surprise, his hand darting out to grab the hilt of his dagger hidden beneath all of the maps spread out before him as he prepared to slice off the man's fingers, when an amused chuckle met his ears. He groaned inwardly, fighting against a rather irresistible urge to jerk the dagger out and stab the intruder in the neck, despite now knowing their identity. Instead, he shrugged off Axel's burning hand and launched himself to his feet, wheeling around on the older man with an expression as dark and as foreboding as thunder during the middle of a storm.

In response, Axel raised his hands in a placating gesture, his grin apologetic yet completely insincere. "Yo, Rox." He dropped his hands, still grinning widely at the glaring blond. "I've been meaning to drop by since I got back."

"Axel." Roxas growled, stepping away from the desk, thus forcing the redhead to back up a few feet. He would have smirked at the small victory he had achieved over the man, but the last thing he wanted to do was encourage him. "I told you not to sneak up on me. I was exceedingly close to removing your fingers this time."

The redhead quirked an amused eyebrow at him, his sharp green eyes sparkling with mirth as he regarded his friend, "Maybe next time then, eh?"

Even he had to appreciate Axel's attempt at humour, his own lips twitching up ever so slightly at the corners. He'd been around the man long enough to know that he was only trying to lighten the mood. But now was not the time for half-hearted jokes; he had decisions to make and a King to thwart. And just like that, the full severity of the situation almost sent him to his knees. Effectively, he was declaring war against a formidable King with enough power to level a whole Kingdom should he wish it.

He couldn't afford to mess around. He needed to focus, which meant no distractions in the form of his best friend. And so, when Roxas spoke again, his voice was tight and guarded, "You didn't come here for chitchat, so what is it?"

Axel seemed to note the sudden change in his friend's demeanour and immediately sobered himself, the smile slipping from his face. He made a vague gesture with his hand, his nose wrinkling. "The Princess. What do you think of her?" He queried, his eyes gauging Roxas' reaction closely.

Not wanting to give in so easily, Roxas brushed off the question by sending a blank stare in the redhead's direction as he muttered blandly, "A lot of people seem concerned with my opinion of the girl." His eyes narrowed as a thought suddenly crossed his mind. "Are you placing bets again?"

"What? _Me_?" The startled look on his face partnered with the a light shrill quality to his voice said it all. Roxas could barely contain a chuckle. Seemingly recovering from his momentary blunder, Axel added more convincingly, "I am offended you would even think such a thing! After last time, I'm pretty sure I've been put off gambling for life." He rubbed at the back of his head, clearly embarrassed as he mumbled dejectedly, "I lost at least half of my loot to Luxord and Palom last month."

"Serves you right for getting cocky." Roxas snipped with a hint of a smile, his usually cold eyes light and clearly entertained. He hadn't been aware of the bet which had taken place between the three of his men until a few weeks afterwards, but it had definitely improved his mood somewhat to learn that Axel had lost the better part of a fortune in a bet with Luxord and Palom, both of whom were now filthy rich and took the opportunity to laugh it up in front of the redhead whenever they had the chance.

"You're avoiding the question." Axel pointed out cheekily, his smirk returning with full force. Apparently he hadn't learnt from his lesson at all, as he seemed to shoe no remorse for his actions.

The small smile vanished and a wall descended around Roxas once again, his eyes becoming hard and dark. "And _you_ are irritating me." He muttered bitterly, knowing Axel was right but not wanting to confess to him all the same. It was a matter of pride, after all.

"_Still_ avoiding the question!" The slender man chorused in a sing-song voice, his smirk widening into a triumphant grin. He knew he had Roxas pinned and that in itself infuriated the young man. Surely he should be able to silence Axel's insistence with little effort? But even then, he wouldn't stop. The man was as stubborn as a mule and didn't always take Roxas' superiority seriously.

With an irritable scowl present on his face, Roxas ran a hand through his hair as he mumbled haughtily, "I've already described to Saïx my strong desire to cut out her tongue and send her back to Xehanort in pieces. I do not feel as though there is much else to expand upon."

If he was alarmed by his violent explanation, Axel didn't show it and instead cocked his head to the side, his voice filled with barely contained amusement, "A bit harsh, don't you think?"

It was Roxas' turn to tilt his head as he considered the man's words. Perhaps Axel was right. But then again, perhaps he wasn't. He disregarded the thought, replying carelessly, "Maybe so, but she has already grated on my nerves a considerable amount."

The way the redhead was gazing at him unnerved the blond immensely. He shifted his weight slightly, but Axel continued to stare, his green eyes practically peering straight into his very soul. A laugh tore out of his throat. "She wounded your pride, didn't she?" He asked bemusedly, the twinkle in his eyes suggesting he already very well knew the answer.

It always came down to pride. How was it that he could be so easily read by this man? Roxas hesitated before issuing a reply. "...No."

"Oh, she _did!_" Axel crooned as he scampered up beside his friend, swinging an arm around the smaller man's shoulders. "Damn, what did she do?" He snickered suddenly, poking at Roxas' skinny sides. "Refuse your advances?"

The blond regarded him coldly, deftly shrugging out of the man's half embrace, although making no protests to bring poke in such an undignified manner. "I could always cut out your tongue instead, pyro."

"Duly noted." The self-proclaimed pyromaniac replied with a non-committal lift of his shoulders, indicating that he didn't particularly care either way. It wasn't like he would carry out with his half-hearted threat anyway.

Deciding it was time to change the subject to something much more pressing, Roxas returned to his desk, leaning over the maps littering its surface. His fingertips rested against a particular piece of parchment roughly detailing the interior of Xehanort's virtually impenetrable fortress. He felt his shoulders tense reflexively. "Did you find anything at the castle?" He ground out, forcing himself to relax as Axel stepped up beside him, scrutinising the map with his own eyes.

"Besides the Princess?" He asked offhandedly, glancing over at the blond with a light smirk. "Not much. We did find the prison pretty easily though; the guards are a dead giveaway. Couldn't get too close, mind you." He jerked his thumb towards a particular spot on the map. "It's cleverly placed. We can't infiltrate it from the outside and there's only one way in or out. No windows, no secret passages as far as we're aware and no way of distracting the guards. In all honesty, even if we wanted to bust Terra out, we won't be able to without some casualties along the way." His expression became grim, losing all trace of its usual humour. "That Princess is our best shot."

And that was the plain and simple truth. There was no other way around it. Even if they wanted to save Terra, it would be virtually impossible without risking the lives of his men, which he knew Terra would not want under any circumstances, even at the risk of his own life. And then there was the issue of his brother... He would want to go charging in head first, not caring about the consequences. That on its own made Roxas nervous. Riku was too emotionally involved.

Suddenly, the flap to his tent was thrown open and someone came storming in. Roxas and Axel both straightened, turning to see who had interrupted them. The blond resisted the urge to groan. Speak — or in this case, think — of the Devil and he shall appear.

The renegade Prince was striding towards him, his expression torn between rage and anguish. "Roxas? When were you going to tell me about Terra?"

Axel cleared his throat, mumbled an excuse and high-tailed it out of the tent, but not before shooting Roxas an apologetic smile. While the blond wanted to curse his friend for throwing him to the metaphorical wolves, he was also glad that he had given the two of them space to talk out the situation at hand.

With a sigh, Roxas clasped his hands behind his back and met Riku's stare, mildly uncomfortable with their close proximity, but as he was not the type to be intimidated, he held his ground. While shooting the older man a flat glare to express his disapproval, he replied curtly, "I was going to wait until we had assessed the situation."

"What are you going to do about it?" Riku probed, his voice rising in volume with each word he spoke, his hands shaking uncontrollably by his sides. "You can't leave him there! I heard the rumours." His aquamarine eyes were filled with dread. "He's to be executed."

"You know I won't allow it to happen." Roxas replied calmly and sincerely, placing a firm hand on Riku's shoulder reassuringly. "We have taken steps to insure his release." Riku looked sceptical. In a bid to convince him, the blond added, "Axel and Larxene successfully kidnapped the Princess last night. We are going to use her as a bargaining chip for Terra's life."

For a moment, the Prince seemed to consider this, stepping away from Roxas to pace slowly, raking his hands through his long silver hair. He looked up sharply, his expression unsure. "You're not going to hand the Princess over to him, surely?"

The younger man raised an eyebrow at this. "No. I am not a fool." He muttered, waving a hand towards the entrance of the tent. "We'll keep her here. If Xehanort gets his hands on her, he'll kill Terra. But if he knows that she is missing and that we have her, it'll buy us time to figure out how to release him properly."

"Can I come with you?" Riku asked fiercely, his eyes smouldering with desperation as he took a bold step toward his commander. "I'm a good fighter — I can be of use. Just let me come along."

Roxas shook his head once in disagreement. "Terra won't like it." He reasoned quietly, remembering how protective the man was of his younger brother, especially if there was any danger involved. "If you were to get injured—"

"He's my brother, Roxas." Riku barked as he stepped even closer, successfully cutting him off mid-sentence, much to the blonde's inner annoyance. "You know I can't abandon him."

He felt a thin sliver of pain pierce his heart as he thought of his own brother, perishing in the same fire which killed his parents. Even while his home had been burning down, he had still tried to save them — his younger brother, whom he had sworn to protect — even though he knew they were long gone. He had failed him. He didn't have the heart to hold Riku back, not when it came to family. With a resigned sigh, he dipped his head and closed his eyes, already imagining the conversation he and Terra would be having when he got back. "...Yes." He murmured, "Believe me, I know."

A look of triumph flashed across his features and Riku allowed himself an earnest smile, "Then you know why I have to come with you."

After struggling a moment longer between what he wanted to do and what he knew was the right thing, he conceded with a jerky nod. "Fine." He held a hand up to halt Riku's celebrations, adding authoritatively, "But you'll stay hidden with Palom, do I make myself clear? Under no circumstances do you make yourself known."

"I understand." Riku replied, much too eagerly for his taste as he started towards the entrance, "Thank you, Roxas."

When he was gone, Roxas traipsed over to the large bed in the corner and sunk down onto it, releasing a heavy breath. He reached for his sword which was still strapped to his waist and stared down at it for a moment. If everything went according to plan, he would have Terra back within his ranks by the end of the week and then he could plan the attack on Xehanort.

Only when Xehanort's traitorous head was mounted on a spike atop the battlements of his own castle would Roxas find true peace. Only when he had paid for his crimes with his life would Roxas ever be able to forgive himself for his mistakes. Only then would he be able to forgive himself for his family's death.

**····» **₪** «····**

The plan was simple; arrive under the pretence of bringing food and water down for the prisoners, deliver some wine to the guards to sweeten the deal and speak with the man who had attempted to kidnap Xion. If she was lucky, he would know who had taken Naminé. If she wasn't, then chances were the masked boy would turn her in and she would be dead by the end of the day. The odds weren't in her favour.

Aqua checked over the meagre plate of food she had prepared herself, balanced the the three cups on the edge and began making her way to the southern-most corridor in the castle.

She passed by several other servants on her way, greeting them all in her usual manner, secretly glad that nobody questioned the plate balancing precariously in her hands — she didn't want to have to lie to anybody more than what was completely necessary.

By the time she reached the southern corridor where the prisons were situated, her hands were slick with sweat and her heart was hammering so loudly in her chest that she was surprised the guards didn't hear her coming. Thankfully, she recognised one of the men standing to attention by the entrance — last she checked, his name was Braig and he was indeed very fond of his drink, which would certainly make her job a lot easier. The other man she didn't immediately recognise, but he was intimidating and she somehow found herself thinking that he would be harder to convince, not that she would let that deter her.

Plastering a warm smile onto her face, she stepped into their line of sight, greeting them with a softly spoken 'hello'. Braig's eyes raked over her and he grinned, gesturing to the plate in her arms. "What you got there, girly?"

"Oh, this? Food for the prisoners." When she noticed the other guard looking at her suspiciously, she steeled herself and added curtly, "I doubt Xehanort would want his prized prisoner to starve before execution. That would surely defeat the object." After finishing, she plastered the smile back on her face and reached for one of the cups on the plate. "However, I did think to bring you boys a drink. I thought you might like something to quench your thirst for a bit." She held one out to the unnamed guard and thankfully he took it with little fuss, dipping his head out of gratitude. Aqua returned the nod before offering the second cup to Braig, who accepted it eagerly.

"Oh hell if I haven't been needin' one of these!" He crooned, lifting the cup to his lips and taking a long sip. "You, girly, are a lifesaver." He stepped aside and swung his arm wide in a polite gesture. "Go ahead an' give those filthy mutts their food. Wouldn't want then starvin' after all."

Aqua smiled graciously and stepped past Braig as his fellow guard opened the door for her. "Thank you." She offered them an exaggerated wave as she stepped down into the darkness.

As soon as the door shut behind her and the sunlight was blotted out, she released a sigh of both relief and apprehension, pausing momentarily to collect herself before cautiously stepping down the large stone steps which coiled all the way down deep into the ground. The stone was slick and slippery beneath her feet and on several occasions, she almost lost her footing in the dank darkness, but thankfully, before long, she came across a torch pinned to the wall and reached up to pull it from its hook, thankful for the light as she continued down the stairs.

The smell, she noted, was awful. It was a damp, dirty scent, mixed with vomit and faeces, but then again she supposed the prisoners didn't live in the most accommodating of conditions. The further she went, the worse the smell got, but thankfully it seemed that she had finally reached the cells as the ground flattened out into a long corridor with barred cages on either side.

Inside the first cell to her right was a middle aged man with frail looking limbs and a dark stubble growing across his chin. His eyes squinted as the light from the torch in her hand bombarded his vision. He looked at her with his pale grey eyes, disinterested, before glancing away, the shackles binding his wrists clinking slightly.

The cell to her left was empty, as was the one next to that, but the third held a young girl not much younger than herself. She had disheveled pink hair falling in knots around her pretty, grime-stained face where a pair of bright blue, frightened eyes stared out at her. In actual fact, she wasn't staring at her, but rather at the food she was carrying.

Aqua paused, watching the young girl as her tongue licked at her lips, barely able to lift her head to look at her properly. Slowly, Aqua approached the cage and knelt down. Immediately, the girl shrank back, but the servant ignored this, setting the plate down beside her. She reached for the single slice of bread sitting on the plate and offered it out to the girl with a kind smile. "It's okay. Here, you should eat." She leaned in a little further, keeping her voice low and gentle, "I know it's not much, but it's better than nothing."

The girl's hungry stare flicked between Aqua's face and the piece of bread being offered out to her. Hesitantly, the young girl shuffled forwards as far as her chains would allow and gently took the bread out of Aqua's hand. Her lips lifted into a half-smile as she retreated back to her corner, munching silently on her food gratefully.

The maidservant was nowhere near satisfied with this small act of kindness, but knew there wasn't much else she could do to help the girl as she rose to her feet and continued on her search for the man from the other day.

It didn't take her long to come across him. He was in one of the cells at the very back of the prison, sitting in the corner, his arms draped across his knees in an almost relaxed position, but Aqua knew better. This was the stance of a hopeless, broken man. She reached up and hooked the torch up into a nook by his cell before kneeling down, peering through the shadows.

He seemed to notice the flickering flame of the torch she had brought with her and lifted his head warily, his sharp blue eyes dark and suspicious. When his gaze focused on her face, he raised his eyebrows slightly and let out a hollow chuckle mixed with a groan. "Wonderful. They've sent you to humiliate me further, huh?"

She held back a quiet gasp. His face was battered and bruised practically beyond recognition, his lip split and bloody. His hair was matted and encrusted with grime, his cheeks gaunt, streaked with the coppery colour of blood. His eyes, while as vibrant as she remembered, had a harsh glint to them, filled with distrust and anger.

Aqua somehow remembered how to speak and she murmured softly, "No. I actually came of my own accord." She glanced down at the plate in her hand and slid it underneath the iron bars towards him. "But I did bring you some food and water."

He sighed heavily and pushed himself up onto his feet with some difficulty, leaning heavily on the wall for support, one hand shooting out to clutch at his side. She noticed that he didn't put any weight on his left leg at all, choosing to hop on his right leg but even that seemed to cause him pain. At an agonisingly slow pace, he managed to make it to the very edge of his cell where he sank back down to the floor again, the plate now within his reach. He hissed, still holding his side as he reached out with his other hand for the cup of lukewarm water. In less than no time, he had guzzled down its contents and started on the food, wolfing down the hard cheese and crumbly bread.

The whole time, Aqua watched him carefully, silently assessing his injuries to the best of her abilities. If his odd grunts of pain were anything to go by, his injuries were extensive and went far beyond the average slash and punch. When his hand fumbled for the last piece of bread, Aqua suddenly found herself reaching out to touch his fingers. Of course, he flinched away from the contact and she immediately withdrew her hand, but it had been enough. It was an instinct of hers; she was able assess the injuries one person possessed through a lingering touch. It had come in useful during times when Ven would come to see her half-conscious with bruises all up his arms and a bloodied lip, refusing to tell her where he had gotten them.

At best, the man before her had several cracked ribs, thankfully none of which had punctured a lung, a sprained wrist, three broken fingers and a shattered bone in his left leg. His facial wounds were mostly superficial and easily healed, but it was the internal injuries she found herself most concerned with.

When she raised her gaze to his again, he was staring at her oddly, his lips pulled into a thin line. "If they didn't send you, then what the hell are you doing here?" He spat, keeping his hands pressed against his chest and well out of her reach.

Aqua frowned and thought for a moment. A few hours ago, she had been angry at the thought that he was somehow involved with Naminé's disappearance, but now she found herself sincerely worried for him. She didn't want him to die. She didn't want any of these people to die. But what could _she_ do? What was she _supposed_ to do?

With a sigh, she replied carefully, "I actually wanted to speak with you. I know you tried to kidnap — or maybe even kill — Princess Xion yesterday." She glanced up at him for confirmation and he merely grunted, looking irritated but she continued anyway. "I want to know if you — or someone you know — might be behind the disappearance of the other princess."

At this, the man looked both confused and surprised. "What? There's another princess?" His face darkened, his lips curling into a snarl. "That monster had a second daughter?"

"Not...exactly." Aqua murmured, carefully choosing her words. She felt wrong revealing anything about the Princess to this man, even though she had every intention of trying to help him. "She was taken into his care when she was young. But last night, she was kidnapped from her room. I assumed that as you were behind the almost-kidnapping of Xion that maybe you might know of who took Naminé."

"And why would a servant like you care?" He countered icily, his eyes narrowing suspiciously as he stared at her, the tilt of his head goading for a response.

Not quite knowing why, her protective streak flared up and she found herself replying bitingly, "I promised I would care for her. She has no one. Her parents are dead and virtually everyone here despises her because Xehanort wants it that way." She took a deep breath to calm herself, stilling her shaking hands. "That...and I'll most likely be killed if Xehanort discovers her missing."

A look of understanding crossed his handsome features and his lips split into a grin, revealing a set of grisly blood-stained teeth. "I see." He laughed humourlessly. "Just looking after your own hide, huh?"

Aqua scowled, snapping heatedly, "It's not about me! I have a friend to look after! If I die, he'll be alone with no one to protect him!" She looked away from his unreadable expression and stared down at her pale hand, imagining the look on Ven's face when he found out she was no longer around to fix the holes in his socks or to heal him when he got himself a silly cut or to hold him when he cried... She didn't want to imagine how badly her death would affect him. He was too dependent on her, but she had nobody but herself to blame for that. "After what Xehanort did to his family I don't know how long he'll last before he does something stupid."

"I can... I can actually relate to that." The man said softly. Aqua looked up, startled to find him sitting practically flush against the bars, his eyes filled with understanding and light amusement. "I have a younger brother. He gets himself into some crazy situations. I've always got to be the one to bail him out." His gaze turned wistful. "I guess I won't be around to bail him out anymore, though."

"That's not necessarily true." The young woman reached out and grasped one of his hands which was resting against the iron bars. He was clearly shocked by the contact, but she refused to let him pull away, placing her face a little closer to his own, her eyes desperately searching his. "Please. Tell me. Do you know who might have taken Naminé?"

He was conflicted. It was as clear as day on his face. His eyebrows furrowed and he shook his head with a groan. "Man, oh man. Roxas is gonna kill me..." He snorted suddenly, his grin a little too wide to be genuine. "But what does it matter? I'm dead either way." He looked up at Aqua again and shrugged. "I've got a pretty good idea who took her and I could take you to them, if I weren't stuck here."

Aqua leaned in even further, excitement bubbling in her chest, her hand clutching tightly at his. Her idea was crazy as hell, but it was the only chance she would get and she was taking it. "If I can set you free, will you take me to her?"

The brunette scratched at his bloody cheek and pursed his split lip, wavering on the edge uncertainly. "I suppose..." His blue eyes narrowed. "But what about your friend? You won't be able to return; Xehanort will have your head."

Despair overcame her. She hadn't even considered the fact, but he was right. She wouldn't be able to return and she certainly couldn't leave Ven...

_What if she didn't have to leave him?_

She couldn't imagine that he would want to stay behind while she left. In fact, if it wasn't for her, she was almost certain he would have left of his own accord by now. All it would take was a quick explanation and she was fairly sure he would follow. She simply couldn't leave him behind.

And so it was settled. With a sense of grim determination, Aqua muttered firmly, "That's fine. I'll bring him with us."

Once again, a look of surprise crossed his face. He let out a breathy laugh and shook his head. "You're either crazy or this princess really must mean a lot to you." He regarded her for a long time, his hand pulling out from underneath hers to trace her chin. Aqua didn't move and allowed him to do as he wished, waiting for his verdict. She didn't have to wait long.

"Alright. I'll take you to your princess." He murmured with some reluctance, not quite meeting her gaze. Before Aqua could celebrate, he continued quickly, his voice slightly husky, "But I need you to do something for me first."

By this point, Aqua would have offered him about pretty much anything and she was quick to state this. "What do you need?" She asked gently, placing her hand atop his again.

He smiled crookedly at her, his gaze darting between her hand and her face. "I have a request." He beckoned her with his fingers, still smiling. "You'll have to lean in a bit closer."

In hindsight, it was obvious what he was planning to do, but Aqua was naive and much too quick to trust people. And so, oblivious to his motives, she did as she was told, severely surprised when he caught her chin with one of his strong hands and brought her lips to his. At first, she was too shocked to register what was happening. And then she began to take note of the odd coppery taste of blood on his lips and the strange gentleness he displayed as he pulled her even closer, his fingers playing with a tuft of hair by the nape of her neck. She absently noted how soft his lips felt and how a strange warmth spread through her chest before utter embarrassment overcame her and she jerked away with a gasp.

"W-what was that?" She asked breathlessly, staring up at him with wide eyes, one hand hovering by her lips. She knew she should have been angry — for kissing her so inappropriately as such — but she found that she was merely surprised. It hadn't been all that bad, either... She quickly banished those thoughts.

"I was curious." He replied flippantly, his eyes brighter and softer than before. He shrugged and smirked, although it looked half-hearted. "Consider it the last request of a dead man."

"You're not dead yet." Aqua pointed out, shuffling closer to him again, wary to stay just outside of his reach in case he tried _to...kiss_ her again. Although, she had to admit to herself that she was not completely adverse to the idea and that's why she had to stay away.

"I may as well be." He muttered, gesturing to his face and then to his torso, a grimace replacing the cocky smirk. "They roughed me up pretty badly and they enjoyed every second of it, sick bastards." His grimace became even more prominent, his lips curling with disgust. "I figure I've got a few broken bones to show for it."

Concern coursed through her. How could she have forgotten? He was gravely injured, to the point where he couldn't even stand on his own two feet without support. She held her hand out towards him, her eyebrows curving into a frown, pushing all thoughts of their brief kiss out of her mind. "Let me see." She smiled weakly at the sceptical glance he threw her and added hesitantly, "I may be able to help."

He grunted in response, his expression becoming guarded once again. "There's nothing you can do." Nonetheless, he pressed himself up against the bars to grant her easier access, his eyes ever watching her cautiously as she lifted herself up onto her knees in from of him.

Aqua gathered her skirts to the side and pushed her hair out of her eyes before reaching towards his chest. When her fingers came into contact with the hard muscle hidden beneath the cotton shirt, she forced down a blush and bit her lip, concentrating on his injured ribs. Just as he opened his mouth to question her, she unleashed her magic into his torso, knitting the torn sinew and bone back together the best she could.

He let out a strangled gasp as he felt the warmth of the magic wash over his chest, but did not pull away. She was sure that if she looked at him he would be staring down at her with his mouth hanging open. The thought made her smile as she then moved onto his hand. Soon, the sprained wrist and broken fingers were mended, as was the shattered bone in his left leg.

All the while she worked, he remained silent, watching her as she pressed her fingertips against his injuries, magically healing them within seconds. Finally, she pressed her fingertips to his temple and cleared his face of cuts and bruises, leaving him as good as new.

With a heavy sigh, she leaned back to survey her work, feeling the drain a lot more now she was no longer touching him. Healing such extensive injuries had well and truly exhausted her to the point where she was seeing spots in the corner of her vision, but she kept quiet. Knowing that he was no longer in pain left her feeling slightly giddy with happiness. Her eyes reluctantly travelled to his face and she prepared herself to see disgust and fear in his gaze, but was once again surprised by the look of appreciation softening his features.

"Magic." He breathed, both bewildered and enchanted, his eyes round and large as he stared down at her. A laugh slipped past his lips as he fell back slightly, testing out his wrist and prodding his ribs gingerly. He looked back at her, smiling widely as he discovered that he was well and truly healed. "You have_ magic_."

"Yes. I do." Aqua replied quietly, subdued as she waited for some form of outburst, for cries of outrage or terror. When she had first revealed her talents to Ven, he had been frightened, but amazed all the same, unable to believe that his best friend possessed magic. She was understandably afraid to see how other people would react, especially since she knew so very little about him and was trusting him with her deepest, darkest secret which could very well spell the end for her.

Instead of yelling or cursing her out, he shuffled closer, his voice tight and sincere, "Does Xehanort...? Does he..." He gestured to her, smiling apologetically at his lack for better wording.

Aqua felt baffled, but pleasantly surprised. He sounded worried, much like Ven, perhaps even more so. She shook her head once, lowering her voice to a soft whisper, "No. I wouldn't be here if he did..." She trailed off, watching him closely, still confused by his mild reaction. "One moment, you're not...disgusted? You don't think it's wrong?"

Now it was his turn to look baffled, his sharp blue eyes blinking rapidly as he considered her question. He tipped his head to the side and frowned. "No, I don't. Where I come from, magic is encouraged and even taught." He smirked suddenly as if remembering something amusing. "In fact, in my company there are two young sorcerers. One of them is pretty arrogant about it, but there's no denying their talent."

She was amazed. There were others like her out there who were living their own lives as sorcerers, without any restrictions, without an evil old king breathing down their necks.

Before she could respond and express her amazement, Braig's worried voice floated down the stairs, "Hello? You down here girly?"

Hurriedly, Aqua tilted her head back and called, "Yes!" She met the prisoners eyes for a moment, a faint smile making its way onto her face as if sharing a secret with him. He raised his eyebrows in response, as if prompting for an explanation. Her smile only grew. "I'm just finishing up!"

As the sound of echoing footsteps grew near, Aqua reached out grasped his hand tightly in her own, holding it as close as she dared. "I promise you," She whispered earnestly, memorizing every inch of his handsome, grimy face. "I'll come for you as soon as I can."

His playful expression vanished, his lips setting in a hard line as he replied bluntly, "I'm supposed to be dead at noon."

She'd almost forgotten about his death sentence. Unconsciously, her hand squeezed his even tighter, showing her true desperation. "I'll stall it." She declared in a half whisper, her head dropping towards his. "I won't let them kill you." He didn't look convinced and she didn't feel it either. Gritting her teeth determinedly, she added harshly, "I won't."

He stared at her quizzically, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Why are you risking this?" He paused and frowned, reiterating his question carefully, "What I mean is; why help me? Why leave all of this behind? It's your home."

The smile on Aqua's face was both bitter and wistful. "I haven't had a home for a long time." She replied honestly with a dip of her head. She gestured to all around them wordlessly, "I won't have any trouble leaving this place behind. And I doubt that Ven will either."

She couldn't determine the look on his face when she said that, but she felt her stomach flip as he reached out for her other hand and replied seriously, "I'll wait for you, then."

The footsteps were louder by now. Without knowing why she felt so reluctant, Aqua began to pry herself away from him, her fingertips brushing against the back of his hands before all contact between them ceased.

Braig was suddenly standing beside her, looking down at her with a disapproving frown. "There you are." He muttered gruffly, offering her a hand which she graciously declined as she gathered up the things she had brought with her. "We were beginning to wonder if you'd gotten lost. You've been down here for an hour now, miss."

She'd been down here that long? A part of her was rather surprised. It wasn't like her to let time get away from her like that. In fact, it wasn't like her to be so absorbed with a man. She felt her cheeks flush, silently glad for the dim source of light.

"Sorry. I didn't think I'd been down here all that long." She murmured. And she meant it. She had thought she'd been down in the prison for at least half an hour, if that. She spared the prisoner a glance, who looked equally surprised if his widened eyes were anything to go by. She forced herself to look away.

Braig shrugged off her apology with a wide grin. "Easily done." He swept his arm in a grand gesture towards the entrance of the prison, his voice light, "Come along girly. We best be goin'."

Aqua shared one last look with the young man, smiling gently at him before rising to her feet and dusting off her skirts. He smiled in return before slinking back to the corner as Braig peered through the bars at him suspiciously. She felt like panicking. If he looked too closely and noticed the lack of wounds on his body, she would surely be done for.

In an attempt to distract him, the maidservant tapped his arm and smiled sweetly, "Would you escort me back up? I almost slipped and broke my neck several times on the way down. I'd feel much safer with a strong man such as yourself to help me."

The young guard grinned, his chest puffing out in a self-important manner. "As you wish." He suddenly retrieved the plate from her hands, still grinning widely. "I'll take that for you. Now, let's get away from here, miss. This be no such place for someone such as yourself."

He offered he his arm and began leading her away, chattering mindlessly as she only half-listened, glancing back every few steps to try and catch a glimpse of the mysterious man whose life she planned to save. It was madness, surely, to try and break into Xehanort's jail and save a convict, but what other choice did she have? So long as she found Naminé and kept Ven safe, she didn't care where she ended up.

She saw him grasp at the bars, leaning as far forward as he dared to catch a glimpse of her and grimaced determinedly. She needed to do this, for him and for herself.

Braig led her up the winding staircase and back out into the world which seemed much too bright for her liking. Aqua had to pause to let her eyes adjust, by which point the guards had locked the prison door behind her again with a deafening thud.

With a hurried smile thrown in their direction, Aqua immediately began rushing down the corridor, ignoring Braig's raised voice as he called goodbye, the plate he had taken from her completely forgotten. Her mind was already working overtime as she headed towards the servants quarters, creating scenarios and incidents which entailed breaking a condemned man out of his confinement, taking her fellow servant and fleeing from the castle all to save a kidnapped princess. There was no way she could manage such a feat within such a small time frame without risking getting caught.

She was not concerned for herself though, but more for Ven and the man she was supposed to be rescuing. If needs be, she would sacrifice herself for Ven, to get him out so he could live a normal life and... Dare she say it? Yes. She was even willing to give her life for that man. She didn't understand how or why she felt that way towards someone she had only just met; only that she would do it in a heartbeat if it meant she was able to save them both. And that was the terrifying truth.

Aqua shoved her thoughts aside as she neared the west wing, where all of the servants resided when they weren't working. She knew exactly which room she needed to find and she also knew that the chances of Ven being there at this time of the day were slim, but if needed, she was prepared to wait for him.

She quickened her pace as she passed her own room, smiling forcefully at fellow servants who walked past, going about their daily business. It didn't take her long to come to a halt outside Ven's room. With a furtive glance around the now empty corridor, Aqua lifted the latch and slipped inside.

As she had suspected, his room was empty. His bed, which was pushed to the far wall, was unmade, his blankets strewn halfway off the straw mattress. Unable to help herself, Aqua chuckled and smiled fondly as she stepped towards it. She reached out and grasped the blankets, straightening them and then shaking out his lumpy pillow before placing it back down with an affectionate pat.

Aqua's gaze slid towards his makeshift bed stand, where a familiar small ornament he had once told her was his only belonging from his old home stood. Gingerly, she picked it up and brought it to her face, running her fingertips over the small metal man, noting how the bright blue paint of his uniform was beginning to chip. Ven hadn't liked to talk about it much, but apparently someone close to him had a matching set, with bright red uniform instead of blue. With a sad smile, she placed it back down on the wooden box and moved away just as the door burst open and Ven came stumbling in.

He was hopping on one foot, the other suspended in mid-air as he attempted to pull his boot off. He glanced up and saw her standing there, her eyebrows raised in amusement. "Aqua! Hey!" He called vibrantly, his grin wide. "Gimme a moment, I can't get this damned thing—" Suddenly, much to Ven's surprise, the boot came free of his foot, but at the unfortunate cost of his balance. His arms wheeling as he attempted to right himself, he fell back and landed on the floor with a thump and a loud whine.

Aqua let out a soft laugh and crossed over to the heap of limbs piled in the doorway, all of her worries forgotten. She leaned over him, bracing her hands on her knees as she peered down at his grimacing face. "Are you alright, Ven?" She asked, her voice tinted with humour as his face scrunched up and he waved her off.

"Fine, fine. I just ache a little..." He peeked up at her and held out the hand which clutched at his boot, his grimace morphing into a pleading pout. "Help me up Aqua?"

Aqua smiled softly at him and shook her head, murmuring, "Oh, Ven." She tossed his boot aside and claimed both of his hands, yanking him effortlessly to his feet before ruffling his hair absently and turning away, her smile fading. Now she stood before him, she didn't know if she could ask this of him — to run away with her, to leave everything behind, to leave everything he knew... It wasn't fair on him. She didn't want to pressure him or force him into making a decision he shouldn't have to make. This would be a big step for anyone.

Ven was suddenly standing directly in front of her, his arms folded over his chest as he scrutinised her face with a weird expression occupying his features. For a moment, his forehead creased, before smoothing out again as he asked, "Hey, Aqua? Is something wrong?"

She frowned regretfully, placing a hand on his shoulder as she mentally prepared herself for what she had to say. Steeling herself against his possible anger, she sucked in a deep breath and spoke, "Ven... I've got a few things I need to tell you."

Almost instantly, he looked worried, his blue eyes widening. "What happened?" He asked desperately, his voice thick with panic, "Are you okay? Did..." His voice cracked suddenly and when he spoke again, it was in a fearful whisper, "Did Xehanort find out about your magic...?"

Aqua felt her eyes widen and her grip on his shoulder tightened instinctively. "No. No Ven." She forced her lips up into a reassuring smile as she stared at her young friend, "I'm fine, believe me." The smile faded just as quickly as it had appeared. She felt guilty over what had befallen the Princess. If only she had done something. Anything. After swallowing the lump in her throat, she managed to ground out, "But Naminé isn't. She's been kidnapped. I've looked everywhere, but no one has seen her since yesterday."

The look on Ven's face said it all. He too, was surprised — shocked, even — and probably couldn't comprehend how it could have happened. Aqua still had a hard time believing it herself. How could anyone have broken into the castle, scaled a wall well over twenty feet high and kidnapped the young princess in the dead of night without leaving a sign or alerting the guards to their presence? Only those specifically skilled could pull off something like that — people like that man in the cell. But he had been caught...

Aqua's jaw clenched determinedly. "I need to find her. Not for me, but for her." Her lips twitched into a grimace. Here came the part she was most unwilling to share with Ven. "So, I went to see someone who might know where she was taken to." She closed her eyes as she waited for the outburst as she uttered, "I went to see the prisoner."

As expected, Ven very well near exploded. "Aqua!" He cried, appalled. "He tried to have Xion killed!" He let out a noise mixed between confusion and anger, pulling away from her restraining hand. "Why would you do that? You don't know a thing about him! He's a murderer!"

"That's just it, Ven." She stated calmly, reopening her eyes to see his distrustful expression staring straight back at her. Had she not been so determined, she may just have flinched at the harsh, judgmental glint in his eyes. "I don't know a thing about him. For all we know, Xehanort could be setting him up!" Before he could angrily protest, she held up a hand. "But that's not the point. Don't you think it strange that Xion was attacked and within a matter of hours, Naminé goes missing? He knows who took her."

Ven was distraught. With a voice filled with worry and confusion, he whispered, "So what are you going to do, Aqua?" He laughed suddenly, "Break him out? You'll get caught — or worse! You could get killed!" All humour fled his features and his face became sad. "I don't want that to happen to you, Aqua. You're my friend."

"I'm sorry Ven." Aqua murmured sincerely, "But I have to. I'm breaking him out and he's going to take me to Naminé." She ruffled his hair affectionately, "I'm telling you this because I want you to come with me. I won't leave you here, but I won't abandon Naminé either." She felt desperation surge up within her at the thought of leaving her dear friend behind with the madman controlling the castle and half the Kingdom. "Besides, what life do we have here, surrounded by all this hatred and rage? Xehanort will kill us eventually and you know it."

He didn't look convinced. But then, neither was she. If Aqua was in his position, she wasn't sure what she would say. Sure, she hated Xehanort, but she didn't know if she would leave at the drop of a hat to rescue some spoilt princess just because a friend asked as much. She did know, however, that she wouldn't be able to live under such a man for much longer.

With that in mind, she tried again, hoping she conveyed her earnestness. "I know what you're thinking — I'm asking you to leave Xion and everything else behind, for one person. But you know I wouldn't ask you unless I thought it was important." She reached out and grabbed his hand, her eyebrows creasing into a frown, "Something is going to happen, Ven. Something bad. I don't know when, but I know Xehanort will be behind it." She took his other hand and held them between them, her fingers curling around his tightly, "I don't want something awful to happen to you, Ven. I couldn't bear the thought of you getting hurt. You're my best friend and I promised that I would protect you, no matter what." And now came the ultimatum. She scrunched her eyes shut and mumbled sharply, "If you don't want to leave with me — if you don't want to risk it — I'll understand. But I won't be able to protect you if you stay."

Ven suddenly wrenched his hands from hers and the sound of his footsteps walking away from her reached her ears. Aqua's eyes snapped open and she watched on as the young blond pulled out a tattered sack from underneath his bed and started piling his precious belongings into it. Clothes, blankets, a stub of a candle and the tin man... He yanked the string to close it and swung it over his shoulder.

All the while, he was silent and Aqua watched him with wide eyes. When he finally turned to her, she saw the grim determination in his gaze and felt her eyes widen even further.

"This prisoner..." Ven began, clearly conflicted about what he was being asked to do. Despite the fact that he was probably never going to see Xion or the comforts of the castle again, his hands remained steady and his gaze hard. "He's your only hope at finding Naminé?"

Aqua was filled with regret. She knew she was asking him too much. She bit her lip and nodded once. "I wish there was another way, but..." She trailed off and shrugged apologetically.

"Okay." Ven tried flippantly, a slight grin stealing its way across his lips, much to her inner surprise. He hitched bag further up onto his shoulder and cocked his head at her. "Then when are we leaving? Soon, right?" He nodded towards the small window which looked down onto the main courtyard, where all of the major events took place. "His execution is at noon."

Once again, regret consumed her. Her cheeks burned and her voice came our sounding much too hoarse. "That's the thing... I need to stall it."

"We." The boy supplied seriously, "_We_ need to stall it." He took a step towards her, his lips set in as stony line. "So tell me, what can I do to help?"

**····» **₪ **«····**

Naminé had been staring at the roof of her tent since the young man had left her standing in the middle of the tiny space, bewildered. She was no longer baffled or left disjointed by his sudden appearance, nor was she disgruntled by his odd momentary gentleness. No, right now she was frustrated and somewhat angered.

Never, in her whole life, had she ever let anyone speak to her in such a manner. And yet, it seemed that where he was concerned, she couldn't trust herself to remain strong enough to enforce that rule. He had touched her, treated her roughly and spoken down to her like one would a child. The worst of it was; she had let him.

So yes, she was very angry indeed. Her pride had been wounded and her dignity almost taken from her. So close. He had been _so close_ to discovering her secret; a secret she had no desire to share with him nor anybody else within his company. She did not wish to be ridiculed or treated with disgust over something which caused her terrible pain and humility. Least of all, she didn't want to give their leader more of a reason to look down at her in contempt.

If she placed aside her angry thoughts towards the young man aside and thought about him in an objective manner, she could truly say that he had a rather profound effect on her, although Naminé had yet to determine whether it was a negative or positive one. He was handsome, it couldn't be denied, but his pompous, self-important attitude was off-putting. That, and he looked much too like the boy who served her cousin. She simply couldn't take him seriously.

Naminé writhed around on the bed, reaching down to pull the scratchy blanket around her shoulders, even though she was not cold. Everything about this place sent her off kilter; never once had she left the palace since moving in with Xehanort, so to be outside of the walls far away from the place she couldn't really call 'home' was discerning. She was pleased, yes. More than anything, she was utterly thankful to be free, but she did not feel as though she could truly celebrate it with her current situation hanging over her head.

To be taken prisoner by a group who planned to use her against her own Uncle was honestly frightening. Who knew what they would do to her when it was all over? Would she be killed? Would she be left to fend for herself? Would they throw her to the wolves? So many questions regarding her fate and so little answers.

She knew she would need to formulate a plan soon. Of course, escape would be futile with them all awake and in one place, so she would have to wait until nightfall, when they were all resting before making her move. She could steal one of the horses from the pen and ride off into the night. By the time they realised she was gone, she would be several leagues away. Where she would go after escaping was the only issue which still perplexed her. She could always return to her true home and seek refuge with the King, but whether Eraqus would believe her tale was something else entirely. She was supposed to have died in a fire many years ago, after all...

Naminé groaned and rubbed at her temples as if to ward off the headache budding there. She had no idea how much time had passed as she had lain there, thinking, but by the time she finally shifted from her position on the rickety bed thrown carelessly against the side of the tent, her muscles screamed in protest and her bones cracked uncomfortably.

If her rumbling stomach was anything to go by, it was swiftly approaching midday. For some reason, the thought of midday niggled at the back of her mind and sent an odd sensation of foreboding off in her chest, but she could not for the life of her figure out why.

A loud commotion coming from outside interrupted her preoccupied thoughts and Naminé found herself creeping towards the entrance of her tent, curiosity fluttering around in her chest. She pushed the tarp aside and stepped out into the camp, tilting her chin up as her eyes quickly scanned the scene before her. Several of the horses she had seen earlier were being saddled by Axel and a young man with long silver hair reaching down his back, their heads bent towards one another as they spoke in low tones.

The blond who had stormed into her tent a mere few hours ago was already seated atop a beautiful chestnut horse, his hands tugging expertly at the reins as he manoeuvred the creature with ease. In addition to the glimmering weapon hooked to his belt, hanging lethally by his thigh, there was a large looking bow and a quiver filled with arrows strapped to his back. Paired with his steely expression, he looked like the very commander he claimed to be, readying for war and she couldn't help but stare.

As if sensing her gaze on him, he glanced over at her, his eyes narrowing into a suspicious glare, to which she returned with a defiant toss of her head as she looked away, her fingers curling into her palms. She regretted even staring at him that long. What had she been thinking?

She did want to spend another waking moment thinking about that insufferable young man. She would put up with him for as long as she remained in his camp, which wouldn't be very long if her escape plan went well. As soon as she was free, she wouldn't even look back. She did not know where she would go — certainly not back into Xehanort's clutches, that much was for sure — but she would find some place quiet and secluded, somewhere as far away as possible, no matter how long it would take.

The whinnying of a nearby horse broke her out of her thoughts and Naminé found herself focusing on the familiar pink haired woman who seemed to have taken it upon herself to accommodate her.

Across from her, Porom was talking with her brother, her hands making elaborate gestures as she spoke, her expression worried. Palom didn't seem too bothered by her concern if the way he rolled his eyes and inspected his staff with feigned interest was anything to go by. Noticing this, Porom smacked him around the back of his head and said something rather rapidly, her hands grabbing a hold of his shoulders. She shook him gently before pulling him into an embrace which he didn't reciprocate. When she pulled away he offered her a slight smirk, patted her arm awkwardly in an attempt to reassure her and began traipsing towards the horses, whistling loudly to himself.

Intrigued, Naminé slowly made her way over to the young woman, who was now worrying away at her lower lip with her teeth, her sharp eyes focused on her brother's form as he walked off. She looked away when the Princess approached, offering her a weak smile and a bow of her head. "Princess, I'm sorry, is there something you need?" She asked, quite clearly distracted.

"Not at all." Naminé replied curtly, following Porom's gaze, not surprised to find her staring at the confident brunette hefting himself up onto a rather large dapple-grey horse. She turned her attention back to Porom, her voice low, "I heard a commotion and I came out to see what was going on."

The young woman frowned slightly and locked eyes with the blonde. "Roxas plans to head to the castle, to bargain for our comrade's life. Do not fret, he will not bring you with him." She shook her head, her frown deepening. "Although...he asked for Porom to come along. I don't like it. I don't like not knowing what's going to happen to him."

While she secretly pitied the woman regarding her brother, Naminé found herself to be slightly perplexed. She had never heard of a 'Roxas' up until this point. Perhaps it was the silver haired man standing beside Axel? Nevertheless, she turned her body towards Porom and asked bluntly, "Who is Roxas?"

Porom did a double take, her expression morphing into one of confusion, her eyebrows lifting. "Why, I thought you knew?" She gestured towards the blond man seated atop the chestnut, who was thankfully turned away from them. "Roxas is the name of our commander. I assumed he had introduced himself earlier."

The Princess had the dignity not to gape open mouthed at the blond, even though she wanted to. His name suited his brutish personality, she thought. But, she also had to admit that it suited his somewhat dashing looks. Immediately, she abandoned this abhorrent thought and muttered coldly, "No. He did not. He was too busy berating me for disobeying him." She let out an unattractive snort. "It would appear he does not take defiance well." In a softer voice, she added, "This is the first I have heard of his name."

The woman tutted disapprovingly, her hands coming to rest on her hips as she huffed, "I always knew his manners were appalling, but I never thought him to be this downright rude." She shot Naminé an apologetic grin, a hand reaching up to smooth down her bright pink hair. "I must apologise on his behalf. He is not accustomed to being around women, much less knowing how to properly speak to one."

Naminé waved away her apology, her smile feeling more like a grimace. "No need. His callous nature doesn't offend me. And it is of no importance whether or not I know his name." She would not be staying long enough to really care. Those unspoken words rested heavily in the air between them, but she refrained from saying them aloud, her stomach knitting at the thought of hurting the young woman's feelings for the third time that day. She did not understand the sensation — she never used to worry whether or not she hurt someone, she was a Princess after all — but now she seemed reluctant to intentionally bring harm to the woman standing before her. Perhaps she was getting soft. Naminé sighed internally at the thought.

Porom looked as though she were about to say something, but stopped herself as the sound of hooves and soft snorting grew close to where they were standing. Naminé turned towards the noise, her eyebrows knitting together as she saw the young man — Roxas, she reminded herself — sat astride his chestnut horse coming towards the two young women, his expression impassive.

Thankfully, he ignored her entirely, elegantly sliding to the ground and gathering up the reins. He then diverted his attention to Porom, who bowed her head in greeting. "I require something of the Princess'." He muttered coolly, still refusing to even so much as glance over at her as he reaffirmed his grip on the reins, his face tight. "Xehanort will want to have some proof of his daughter's presence within our midst."

Porom looked towards Naminé with a frown of her own. She seemed to disapprove of Roxas' behaviour, but she couldn't very well speak out against him, for which the Princess could not blame her for. For a moment, they shared a strange look, before Porom sighed and gestured lightly to Roxas, her frown never lessening, "Do you have anything you could give him?"

Naminé instinctively pulled the cloak tighter around her shoulders, lifting her chin defiantly. "Why should I?" At this, Roxas spared her an icy glance and she straightened her spine, not wanting to appear intimidated. In reality, his stare unnerved her. Her legs felt unsteady and her head light, yet she somehow managed to remain on her feet. Quietly, less confidently than before, she added, "Why should I cooperate with someone who has treated me so poorly?"

Just like before, Naminé suddenly found Roxas' face a mere hairs breadth away from her own, his anger almost palpable in the air surrounding them. "You do not want to test me Princess, not with so much at stake." He growled warningly, his voice filled with the promise of danger. She resisted the urge to step away from him, pushing her shoulders back so she stood a little taller. He didn't seem at all fazed as he continued on, his words becoming sharper and angrier, "You will cooperate, or your stay here will become _most_ unpleasant."

In a show of bravery, Naminé stepped even close towards him, tilting her head back to stare up at him. She silently cursed his height advantage. "I do believe you threatened me in the same manner earlier." His face contorted, but she ignored him. In a cold, aloof voice, she added, "And I _do_ believe I told you that I will not be meeting your demands, no matter how uncomfortable you make me."

Roxas' lip curled into a ferocious snarl and, as fast as lightning, brought a blade out from its sheath and pressed it against the tender skin of her throat. Porom let out an unintelligible noise, but they both ignored her. "Don't make the mistake of thinking your life is invaluable to us. I will kill you if you inconvenience me any further, Princess or not." He ground out, the pressure from the knife increasing slightly as he tipped his head even further forwards, so their noses were almost brushing. Had they been in different circumstances, Naminé might just have blushed, but they were not and so she kept a straight face, despite his heavy worded threat.

She would be lying if she said that she did not feel the heat and truth behind his words; she felt as though she had been presented with a deadly ultimatum. Play along with his plans or die. And for once, it looked as though the princess in her would have to relinquish its pride, as she had no desire to die at his hands. Having exhausted all of her options, Naminé glared at him and wrenched the cloak from her shoulders, careful to keep her wrists hidden from view. If he noticed the action, he didn't comment on it, accepting the item roughly, his icy blue eyes staring back unrelentingly.

She gazed at him for a moment longer, before letting out a noise of disgust and turning on her heel, meaning to flee back to her tent, when his voice stopped her.

"Will this be enough?" He asked dubiously, clearly suspicious of her notice was he held up the velvet cloak she had thrust into his hands.

Naminé let out a cold laugh, meeting his gaze over her shoulder. "Believe me, _sir_, it will be enough." She looked away just as quickly, murmuring to herself, "That monster will recognise it alright."

And with that she vanished into her tent, not knowing that Roxas had heard her uttered words.

* * *

**A/N:** So I managed to squeeze a scene from Roxas' POV in there, partly because I want to get into his character more, but mainly because I love him.

And the moment I have been eagerly anticipating: Aqua and Terra have officially meet in a rather unconventional manner hehehe. I love the two of them so much, so don't be alarmed if I throw some Terra/Aqua scenes in there during future chapters!

The final scene from Naminé's POV bridges the gap between this chapter and the next, which should be an interesting one to write. I know there's not much Roxas/Naminé interaction just yet, but bear with me. Things will start heating up now!

Thank you for all of your support! I'm thankful for each review, favourite and follow I get; it means a lot. ^^

_~AusisWinds-13_


	5. Escape

**A/N: **I guess this chapter's up a little later than usual, but I can't sit around writing 24/7 as I have school and other issues which plague my busy daily routine. Yes, I have a life outside of writing. Sad, but true. xD

I hope you all enjoy the chapter. ^^

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any Kingdom Hearts or Final Fantasy characters!

* * *

**Chapter Five :: Escape**

Roxas continued to stare down at the velvet cloak the Princess had shoved into his hands, his expression unreadable. He mulled over her words silently, wondering what could have provoked her to say such things about her father or whether they were intended to confuse him. None of it made sense. Of course, after a moment longer of debating, he came to the decision that her intentions were indeed to confuse him, as he strongly believed the girl to be entirely capable of something so dastardly. Like father like daughter, after all...

Porom, who was still standing where she had been when the whole ordeal had started, seemed unsure as whether to follow after the girl or to remain by her superior's side. She wavered, her eyes darting after the Princess, but remained in place, clearing her throat awkwardly.

Finally, he looked up, his eyebrows curved into a frown. Porom stared back at him, her lips pursed. There was a pause between them before Porom took it upon herself to speak, "Roxas, I don't understand what the girl has done to make you hate her so much, but you should go easy on her." When he opened his mouth to protest, she held up a hand, clearly not taking into consideration the fact that he was effectively her superior. "She's been forcefully taken from her home, thrust into a world she has probably never seen before, treated roughly by Larxene and now you. From what I have observed, the girl has not seen much kindness in her life." She frowned suddenly, her expression souring. "Regardless of Xehanort being her unc— _father_, she hasn't been shown the same amount of compassion that we have."

Roxas stared at her, speechless, his face blank, having not noticed her blunder. He processed what Porom had said and deemed them wise, but found the very notion of showing kindness to such a spoilt child virtually inconceivable. She was still Xehanort's daughter and therefore a plague upon the earth. If it were possible, he despised her as much as the man who was her parent.

When she realised he wasn't going to say anything, nor was he going to relent to her gentle prodding, she sighed heavily. Her gaze trailed around the camp, before coming to rest on he brother, who was performing a trick upon his horse to Riku and Axel, his grin infectious and wide. She bit her lip, clenching her hands into fists as she added tiredly, "While you're out there, please..." Porom trailed off, pressing her curled fist against her lips as Roxas refocused his gaze on her face. "Watch out for Palom. He might be...an amazing sorcerer, but he's not invincible. He's still my brother."

Slowly, the blond reached out and placed a hand on the young woman's shoulder. "I'll look after Palom, don't worry." He remove his hand and turned to his horse which was grazing lazily nearby, its reins lying abandoned on the grass from when he had exchanged in conversation with the kidnapped princess. He effortlessly swung himself up into the saddle and gathered up the reins once more, twisting around to look at Porom as he draped the velvet cloak across his lap. "Watch over the Princess while we're away. Make sure she does not try anything foolish."

With nothing more to say, he tugged on the reins and led his horse away, not waiting to hear Porom's reply. As he drew close to where the others were waiting, he straightened slightly and set his face into an impassive mask. "Men. Ready yourselves. We leave now."

As expected, Palom, Axel and Riku all snapped to some form of attention, either checking over their weapons, or seeing to their steeds. Roxas looked over them each in turn, realising that what he was about to do could essentially end the lives of one of his men who had so loyally given their services to him in his time of need. But today was important. Today was the day where the real war began, where Xehanort would be held accountable for his murder and other unmistakable crimes. After years of waiting, of planning and of suffering, there would finally be peace once more. This would be what started it off — _rebellion_.

Saïx suddenly appeared beside Roxas, astride his own horse, his golden eyes sharp. "Will five of us be enough?" He asked, ever bluntly as he too looked at the measly gathering of men who were to storm the castle and rescue one of their own.

Roxas' lips twitched. "I have sent word to some of the townsfolk to see if any would be willing to help." He glanced over at the man beside him. "Many people hate Xehanort for what he did to their homes. If they can scorn the man, no matter how they do it, they will. We won't be alone in this."

This didn't seem to sit well with his second in command, if the clenching of his jaw and steely expression was anything to go by. "And if they die for this?" He asked severely, his voice hard. "If they give their lives so one man can be free, they are at peace with that? Are _you_ at peace with that?"

The young man bristled, irritated, and shifted in the saddle, keeping his gaze focused on the tents straight ahead, his voice unwavering, "They know of the resistance we lead, of the army we have gathered. They believe in our cause and wish to help." At this, he looked towards the man beside him, his eyes cold. "I cannot deny them that."

Saïx shook his head imploringly and forced his horse slightly ahead of Roxas', putting himself directly in his superior's line of sight. "This is more than just a princess, Roxas." He gestured broadly to the area around them, "These are civilian lives, people who have never seen battle or blood."

Roxas lowered his voice and leaned in towards the scarred man, his eyes narrowing dangerously, "You expect me to leave Terra to die?"

Unperturbed by his display of anger, Saïx stared right back at his leader, his back ramrod straight. "I stand by what I said. It is unwise to involve the innocent." He resolved tightly, his chin tilted back.

The blond scoffed, jerking his reins to the left and leading his horse around Saïx. "Unwise it may be." He growled lowly, his icy gaze flicking away from his second in command. "It is happening regardless."

He understood Saïx's hesitance, he truly did, but now was not the time to grow soft. He was right; it was more than just a princess. It was about a tyrant King and the freedom of the entire Kingdom, it was about peace and the feeling of security. Once they had conquered the Realm of Darkness and rid it of its King, things could progress and get better again.

His men would be free to do as they pleased; whether they decided to return to their families, move on to a different town or chose to take up a new trade. None of it really mattered so long as they had the choice of free will. And that was what spurred him on — the constant reminder that his men had something to go back to, even if he himself didn't. He would remain a soldier, a mercenary for hire, without home or place to call his own and he was fine with that. They, however, could not live such a life. He couldn't expect it of them.

Roxas drew his horse up short before Palom, Riku and Axel, resting one hand on the hilt of his sword. The three of them straightened at his approach, their expressions varying levels of determination. He took a moment to look at them each in turn before tilting his head. "Let's go."

And without another second to waste, the five of them urged their horses into a canter and raced from the camp, heading steadily towards Xehanort's fortress where the execution of Terra was growing ever nearer.

**····» **₪** «····**

After practically exhausting all other avenues, Aqua found that she would have to visit the prisoner for a second time to fill him in on their finalised plan. It was a messy, difficult and risky plan which could very well end up in getting the three of them killed, but Ven was adamant that it would work.

Aqua could tell that he wanted to support her in any way he could, especially when it came to finding Naminé, but she also knew that he was struggling to come to terms with the fact that he would have to leave the Princess behind.

In some ways, Ven had come to be very close to Miss Xion, even if the girl herself did not dote on him in the same manner in which he did her. He cared for her a great deal, to the point where he could almost call her a friend, but he knew that it would be best if he left her and this horrible life behind. Aqua had reassured him the best she could, claiming that one day everything would be set right and perhaps even Xion would be free of Xehanort, too. Ven hadn't been convinced and had quickly left to start putting their plan into motion, and, in some way, to say goodbye to the spoilt princess.

It was shortly after Ven's exit that Aqua found herself heading uncertainly down the hallway towards the prison carrying a flannel and water skin, wondering what she could say to allow the guards to give her entry to the cells for a second time in less than a couple of hours. If they didn't, she had no idea how she was supposed to assure the man that they were doing everything to ensure his escape and fill him in on their plan.

She could very well imagine that he was beginning to get slightly antsy, especially as there was just over a few hours until his execution and the designated platform was already sitting in the main square, according to the other servants she had come across in the halls.

She was about to turn the corner and enter the long hallway which led to the cells when someone pressed their hand over her mouth and tugged her back into the shadows. She didn't even have time to let out a gasp of surprise as she was shoved up against the wall of a small alcove by the very same masked boy from earlier.

Unable to speak, she glared up at him icily, conveying her distaste to being pushed around, while he placed a finger against his helmet where his lips should be before indicating towards the hallway. At that moment, several guards stalked past, their weapons at the ready. Aqua's eyes widened and she shrank back against the wall, thankful that they didn't glance in her direction. It wasn't as if she was afraid of being caught — she was a servant after all and was allowed to walk the castle freely, within reason — but she couldn't risk being stopped and questioned, in fear that they uncover her true motives. For a brief flicker of a moment, she was grateful that the mysterious boy had saved her from that particular run in.

Finally, he dropped his hand and released her. Aqua scrambled out into the hallway to put as much distance between her and him as possible, feeling the swell of her magic thrumming beneath her skin as he leaned lazily up against the wall opposite her.

"You're welcome." He muttered sarcastically, folding his arms over his chest brusquely as he scrutinised her heavily.

Aqua flattened her hair, squared her shoulders and offered him a curt nod before stalking off, not bothering to utter a word to him. Every fibre in her body was telling her that this boy was dangerous, that he wasn't to be trusted nor relied on. He could turn her into Xehanort at any second.

The unmistakable sound of footsteps following her made it clear that the boy was trailing along behind her and that alone raised her hackles. She tossed him a warning glance over her shoulder as they neared the guards, but he said nothing and made no indication of even noticing her as he let his strong arms swing back and forth by his side's.

"Hey girlie. Back so soon, I see." Braig greeted with a wide grin. He seemed to notice the other person behind her and leaned to the side to peer past her, "And with comp— oh." The grin disappeared from his face and he stood a little straighter, as did the other guard, who seemed rather displeased to see the masked boy.

"Braig. Lexaeus. Good to see you." The masked boy remarked darkly, his voice low and dangerous. Aqua found that she couldn't repress the flinch at the sound of it, her blood running cold. "Perhaps you would open up and let the lady through?"

"We're under strict orders that no one can enter." Lexaeus replied stiffly, his eyes never wandering in their direction. The grip on his lance tightened ever so slightly as the boy pushed past Aqua and came to stand before the giant of a man, his entire body language threatening.

The masked boy let out a horrible laugh, shaking his head sharply as he held his hand out, an orb of darkness immediately consuming his palm. Both of the guards' eyes widened at the display, their faces draining of colour as the boy raised his hand a little higher and hissed, "I _said_, would you be so kind as to let the lady through?"

Aqua felt as though he had just punched her in the stomach for the second time. Her breathing became laboured, her head hurt and her palms practically sparked with the magic which instinctively rose up to defend her from the sheer darkness the boy was exhibiting. Through gritted teeth, she managed to ground out, "Stop. Just stop it!"

The boy looked back at her and if she didn't know better, she could almost imagine his scornful expression beneath his mask. However, he lowered his palm and stepped away with a grunt, conceding to her demands.

Aqua immediately felt the knots in her stomach disappear and her head stopped pounding. After a moment longer, her magic finally shrunk back to where it came as the darkness evaporated into the air. Much calmer now, she directed her attention to the guards. "I've been told I am to ready the prisoner for the execution." She held up the flannel and water skin she had been fortunate enough as to gather before leaving, figuring it would be best to offer him some way of cleaning himself before they made to escape.

The guards looked at her warily, but Braig soon stepped aside with Lexaeus following suit, especially with the constant, unnerving stare they were receiving from the masked boy. "You half fifteen minutes and that's all." Braig declared with a grimace, his eyes darting towards the boy. "But you'll have to stay here."

"Tch. I don't plan on waiting around." He scoffed and turned on his heel, heading back the way he came with those same powerful strides as before. He glanced back at the last second, looking in the general direction of where Aqua was standing. "Don't forget what I said, bluebird. I'll be watching." And with that, he disappeared from sight, concealing himself within the shadows, vanishing without a trace.

Barely able to conceal a shiver, Aqua turned back to the guards, who looked just as spooked as she did. They took another step back, allowing her access and for a moment, Aqua was secretly glad that the boy had been there. If not, she didn't know if they would have so willingly let her into the cells again. Even if he had essentially threatened their lives with his dark magic, he had helped her and as much as she hated to admit, she now owed him even more. Owing him one thing was dangerous enough, but he seemed to keep on appearing in her hour of need, much to her own chagrin.

As before, she took to the winding steps which led down deep into the catacombs of the prison, the darkness swirling before her as she carefully placed her feet on the slippery stone surface. It almost seemed as though she came across the torch pinned to the wall a lot quicker than last time and she was thankful, finding the stifling darkness to be somewhat unnerving. After seeing the boy disappear into a mass of thick shadows made her increasingly aware of everything around her. He could be watching her, even now.

Clutching tightly to her only source of light, Aqua descended even further into the depths of the underground prison, breathing in through her mouth to avoid smelling the awful stench she remembered so vividly from her last visit.

It felt like forever before she finally reached ground level where the cells were kept. When the ground levelled out beneath her feet and the familiar corridor with barred cages on either side became visible, Aqua nearly let out a sigh of relief.

She walked hurriedly down the length of the cells to where the prisoner was kept, noting that the middle aged man from before was gone from his cell. A horrid foreboding feeling curled in the pit of her stomach at the sight of the empty cage, but Aqua forced herself not to dwell on it as she passed the young girl from before who looked up as she approached, her lips twitching into a hint of a smile. Aqua paused, offering her a nod and a grim smile in return before continuing on her way.

The man was pacing the perimeter of his cell, clenching and relaxing his hands with each step he took, his body posture the very image of anxiousness. Remembering how their last meeting had gone, Aqua came to a rather abrupt halt, her cheeks colouring with embarrassment as she recalled the soft impression of his lips against her.

Unfortunately, before she could turn on her heel and flee before she was spotted. The flame of the torch she was holding must have attracted his attention, as he looked up suddenly, his frown smoothing out when his eyes landed on her face. He breathed out suddenly, his lips lifting into a tired smile. "It's you. I was beginning to worry."

"I'm sorry for taking such a long time." Aqua murmured, hooking the torch into the designated notch and sidled closer to the cell, gingerly holding up the water skin to him. He took it with a nod of thanks, chugging it down within seconds while Aqua continued somewhat nervously, "We have a plan to get you out, but... Well, it's cutting it close."

The man pulled the water skin away from his mouth, looking down at her suspiciously. He stared at her for a long time, reading her face silently. Almost immediately, his expression soured. "You want me to go ahead with the execution." He stated bluntly, dropping his arm back to his side and immediately taking to pacing again, his steps short and angry.

Aqua hurried to amend his statement. "We won't let you die, you must know that, but it's the only way we're going to be able to get you out." She gestured to the cells around them, her eyebrows knitting into a frown. "Breaking you out of here is virtually impossible. The execution is the only chance we'll get — the square will be crowded, the gates open. At the right moment, we'll cut you loose and disappear."

The man paused in his pacing, curling a hand around his chin in thought. "And what of the guards?" He asked abruptly, his sharp blue eyes darting towards hers. He let out a humourless laugh and resumed his mindless stalking with a shake of his head. "They'll catch us and kill us."

The young woman straightened her back in what she hoped to be a motion of confidence, her chin tilting slightly. Boldly, she declared, "I've...I've borrowed a sword to fend them off."

At this, the prisoner turned fully to face her, taking a step towards the bars, his expression suggesting he was both surprised and impressed. "You can wield one?" He asked curiously, leaning in towards her face. She shook her head hurriedly and he drew back, his lips pursed. "What about your magic?"

Aqua stumbled over her words, "I... I've not had any experience." She cleared her throat purposefully to rid herself of her nervousness and spoke again, slightly louder, "I've never had the need to use my magic like that."

"All right." The man conceded with a wave of his hand, his smile almost wry. He turned away once more, walking in slow circles, scratching at the back of his head. "Well, I can use the sword. I'll cover our escape." He let out a heavy sigh and let his head fall back. "I only wish Roxas were here to help."

And there it was again — the mentioning of this 'Roxas'. Without knowing quite why or how, Aqua found herself recognising the name and that was enough to spark her curiosity. "Who is Roxas?" She asked quietly, blinking rapidly when the prisoner wheeled around to face her, his expression unreadable. Hurriedly, she added, "The name sounds vaguely familiar to me."

The brunette watched her for a moment longer, scrutinising her face, searching for the hint of a lie or something threatening only to relax when he found none. He met her gaze head on, his tone neutral and impassive as he spoke, "He's the leader of my group — Organization XIII."

It was then that she realised why she recognised the name. Roxas... He was the leader of the infamous bandits — they were an alleged bunch of cutthroats, mercenaries for hire who roamed the outskirts of the Kingdom, seeking vengeance on Xehanort and his kind. For a moment, she wondered if she should be putting so much trust into this man — a man who could easily have her killed — but remembered that they had a common enemy. She, too, wouldn't mind seeing Xehanort's throne taken from him. If it meant that she would no longer have to worry that she could easily wake up one morning to find Ven dead then she certainly wasn't going to complain about their methods. A flicker of a smile crossed her face, "Organization XIII, front of the Resistance."

The prisoner raised a perfectly curved eyebrow, a smirk playing about his lips. "You've heard of us then."

Aqua nodded somewhat enthusiastically, "Yes, you're famous amongst the lower towns." Tentatively, she added softly, "Your group... You plan to bring Xehanort down."

The man nodded once. "And to restore peace to the Kingdom." His peaceful expression contorted into an angered frown, "But Xehanort branded us terrorists. Not many people are allied or sympathetic to our cause, much less those in the neighbouring Kingdoms. They keep well out of our affairs."

Before Aqua could reply that, if anything, they could consider her an ally to their cause, the sound of the entrance to the prison being opened filled the silence between them.

The young woman gathered up the flannel and darted her hand out to grab the water skin from the man's slack hand, but not before pressing her fingers to his and whispering, "I have to go. Hold on and be ready."

She tore away, meaning to leave, but his voice calling after her pulled her to a halt. "Wait!"

She half turned towards him, her eyebrows raised in confusion. "What is it?" She asked, her head tilting ever so slightly to the side.

He was pressed up against the bars, his hands curled around the metal, his own eyes filled with the same desperation she felt. "There is a girl, a few cells down from mine, with pink hair. I saw her when I came in."

Aqua's confusion rose, but she decided to humour him, "Yes, yes there is. Why?"

"You need to help her, too." The man declared, his voice filled with determination. "She's to be executed alongside me." When Aqua opened her mouth to object, he shook his head and lunged forwards, "You don't understand. Please. She is assumed dead out there and she is very important to someone I know."

The maid stared at him for a long time, all the while the sound of footsteps nearing where she stood, until she finally reached a decision. Exhaling heavily, she nodded once, "Alright. I'll do what I can."

She turned to leave again, but he called out a second time, his voice softer, "Wait."

She blinked and turned again, her lips curling into a smile. "Yes?"

The man's own lips were pulled back into a smirk, his amusement evident. "You never told me your name." He pointed out, his smirk growing.

"And I recall you never told me yours." Aqua shot back with a light laugh.

The prisoner's smirk softened into a genuine smile and he huffed out a small laugh of his own, his shoulders shaking. "Terra." He raised an eyebrow at her, "And you?"

Aqua couldn't help it; her smile widened. She chuckled as she half-turned to leave, calling her name quietly over her shoulder, "Aqua."

And then she was gone. Terra slumped forwards, his arms hanging leisurely through the bars as he tested her name out on his tongue, "Aqua."

He chuckled quietly to himself and sunk to the filthy floor, draping his arms over his knees and linking his thumbs together as the footsteps grew louder and louder. He knew what was awaiting him, but he gladly welcomed it with open arms. After all, Aqua would save him.

In the meantime, Aqua raced for the stairs, sliding a little bit on the damp stone beneath her feet, but otherwise keeping her balance as she reached the end of the corridor just as four guards came stalking towards her, their hands resting on the hilts of their swords. She immediately pressed herself up against the nearby wall, bowing her head so that her hair fell in front of her face. They barely even spared her a glance before continuing onward, their armour clinking and rattling with every step they took.

The servant waited a moment longer, lingering only to see where they were headed before turning on her heel and sprinting up the steps, knowing that she was running out of time. They were fetching Terra and the girl already. She didn't know what to do. She needed to find Ven.

She had only just stepped over the threshold of the prison and sucked in a deep breath of fresh air before two hands clamped around her upper arms and yanked her away. Aqua let out a surprised yelp, struggling against her captors as they began to swiftly march her down the hallway. She glanced over her shoulder to see both Braig and Lexaeus shooting her apologetic looks, their expressions solemn.

She looked up towards the two guards who had taken her captive, noting that she had never even seen them before. They were both frowning grimly, their eyes focused on the oath before them as they took a sharp left and led her up the main staircase. She knew it was best if she remained silent.

At the top of the staircase, they turned right and headed down another corridor which eventually opened out into the Royal Wing. A lump of dread formed in her stomach as she realised where they were taking her. Her fears were confirmed when they came to a halt outside the King's Royal Court Chamber, where those who were to be condemned were taken before their sentence was carried out.

One of the stern looking guards reached out and rapped his knuckles against the pristine oak, waiting only a moment before opening the door and pushing Aqua inside. She landed in an undignified heap just inside the doorway, her palms slamming into the floor in an attempt to soften her fall. And in the seconds that followed, there was silence. But it didn't last for long.

"At least you are kneeling before your King. I do believe this is the first sign of loyalty I have seen from you in quite a while, Aqua."

His voice was gnarled and scratchy; it sounded much like someone had tried sharpening a knife on his throat and almost severed his vocal cords. Aqua cringed against the cold stone floor, her eyes clenching shut as she begged to whoever was listening— let her get out of this alive.

Steeling her nerves, the servant bravely lifted her head from here she was slumped, her eyes immediately falling on King Xehanort's weathered face peering down at her from a throne like chair at the other end of the room. His lips were curled into an arrogant sneer, his eerie golden eyes watching her every move.

Slowly, Aqua pushed herself up a little, grinding her teeth to stop herself from blurting out something that would compromise her even further. "I am unsure as to what you are referring to." She managed, just above a whisper, the fear running through her veins like slick ice.

Xehanort let out a biting laugh which made her flinch. "Oh dear servant, you truly are naïve if you think I do not know." He leaned forward in his chair, his sneer widening. "My dearest niece is gone, captured by the group of bandits known as Organization XIII, my enemies who frequently seek to thwart me. And yet I can comfort myself with a small victory, as I own one of their prized pieces — Terra, the man I have condemned to death — the very man you wish to free so that you may retrieve my precious niece." His glare was cruel, his voice tinged with a deadly threat. "Tell me, are you still unsure as to what I am referring to?"

Aqua couldn't speak. The fear which was already coursing through her entire being was practically thrumming now, fast enough to make her head spin. Her fingers curled into her palms and her teeth bit into the side of her cheek, drawing blood which flooded her mouth with a bitter, coppery taste.

Xehanort didn't seem to want to wait for her reply as he rose to his feet and began to pace slowly, back and forth in front of her, his hands clasped behind his back. "I've known for a while now. You see, I have spies everywhere. Why do you think there are so many executions? I sniff out any traitors who stand against me and snuff them out." He turned on her. "So why have I allowed you to get this far? It is quite simple really — I want you to return my niece to me."

The young woman inhaled sharply and replied haltingly, "Why me? Why not kill me and get one of your spies to deal with it? Aren't I a liability?" She bit her tongue to stop herself from speaking, but the damage had been done.

The King considered this for a moment before chuckling. "Oh no. I won't dispose of you just yet, Aqua, not until my niece is returned and I have killed everyone you love right before your eyes." He met her horrified gaze with a feral grin, "Only then will I end your life." He then wheeled away and began pacing once more, his head tilted back. "You see, you are much more subtle than my 'spies'. You can infiltrate the camp under the guise of a civilian, gain their trust and rescue my dearest Naminé from the Resistance's evil clutches."

"What... What are you saying?" Aqua whispered, clutching a hand to her chest as she struggled to process all that was being said to her.

"I will allow you to leave with your other servant friend — young Ventus — to retrieve my niece and return her to me. If you do not..." Xehanort stopped abruptly and gestured towards the corner of the room, where a figure Aqua hadn't noticed earlier was skulking. The figure stepped out of the shadows when the King gestured to them and moved forwards. "...Then I shall have Vanitas here, who will be watching your every move, kill the boy."

Aqua was stunned into silence as she stared up at the boy. The surface of his mask reflected her horrified face back at her as he stood willingly beside Xehanort, his arms folded confidently over his chest. After everything — everything — her plan had fallen apart because of him. Because of that monster.

Anger welled up inside her chest and her magic jolted awake because of it. For the first time ever, she truly wanted to bring pain to the boy who had betrayed her, to the boy who could very well end Ven's life.

With jerky movements, she stood, her magic flowing to her palms where it waited to be released. If Xehanort could sense the power trickling through her, he didn't show it, his face expressing that he was taking extreme delight in her reaction. But Aqua didn't care. She was solely focused on Vanitas.

And he merely stared right back, tilting his head warningly, as if urging her to back down when she wanted to do everything but. She could take them both. She was angry enough. She could do it and run. Free the prisoner, find Ven and leave. She could...couldn't she?

No. Of course she couldn't.

Her magic fled as soon as it had leapt to her aid, hiding itself within her body as she slowly forced herself to relax.

She had to be smart. If she wanted Ven to survive, she needed to do this. For Terra, too. Naminé would likely never forgive her, but Aqua couldn't allow herself to care. This was about more than her now and she needed to get her priorities straight.

Vanitas forgotten, Aqua squared her shoulders and turned her gaze towards Xehanort, her jaw clenched. "You have to promise that Ven will live if I do this, the prisoner too. Do what you want with me, but let them go."

Xehanort's grey eyebrows shot up, his amber eyes wide with surprise. "The prisoner?" He shook his head once, smirk returning. "Forgive me, but I am afraid Terra will be dying today. There is no changing that. He is a liability, more so than you."

"I won't do it if I cannot save him too." She declared icily, straightening her spine so she stood a little taller.

"Then both he and Ventus will be dead by nightfall." Xehanort snarled, his expression ferocious. "No, Terra will be executed and you will leave with Ventus to find my niece."

"He is the only one who knows where they are!" Aqua replied helplessly, her voice rising to match his volume.

At this, Xehanort scowled. He stared at her for an immense amount of time, the whole while Vanitas remained immobile from where he stood beside his master, his gaze also fixated on the young woman before them. Slowly, Xehanort turned away, spitting out harshly, "You may take him as planned." Suddenly, he was standing right before her and her feet left the ground as his hand wrapped around her neck. He leaned in close, his eyes swirling with fury. Aqua tried not to cower. "But mark my words — they will both die if you do not do as I requested."

He then tossed her aside like one would a rag doll and stalked out of the room, leaving her with Vanitas.

For a moment, they both remained silent, the only sound coming from the young woman as she sucked in several ragged breaths, all the while glaring up at the masked boy with undisguised venom.

He cocked his head at her and chuckled coldly, as is her display of anger amused him. "The messes you get yourself into, bluebird. It's shocking, really."

"You...told him..." Aqua hissed, struggling to her feet, still breathing heavily, her vision spinning.

"Of course." Vanitas retorted with a snort. "I told you I would. You took too long in figuring out what to do." He shrugged as if it were of no consequence to him. "And now you've gone and gotten yourself killed."

Panic suddenly darted through her. "What about my—"

"That secret is safe." Vanitas cut in as he walked towards the door, his arms swinging by his sides. He paused and tossed her a look over his shoulder. "Not sure for how long, mind you."

And then she was alone. Aqua slumped against a nearby pillar, fear and rage and utter betrayal swimming around in her chest all at once. She needed to find Ven and fast.

**····» **₪** «····**

Ven was standing by Princess Xion's door as he waited for her to finish brushing her hair. She was sat in front of the vanity mirror, her lips mushed into a slight pout as she wrestled with a particularly stubborn raven lock. She was wearing her prettiest gown especially for the execution, even though she thought the whole thing rather disgusting. A beautiful sapphire necklace sat just beneath her collar bone, bringing out the crisp blue of her eyes. He thought it complimented her quite nicely, even if he would never voice this aloud.

He fidgeted silently, Aqua's words still floating around at the back of his mind. It was now or never. This would be the last chance he'd get to say goodbye to his charge. He'd been serving the Princess since he was first brought to the castle and had come to understand the girl, only to have to leave it all behind. He was indeed fond of her and thought of her as a younger sister; after all, she could be very endearing when she wasn't being bratty and irritating.

Xion looked over at him, her expression darkening as she noticed his not so subtle shifting. "Oh for heaven's sake, whatever you wish to say, just say it." She ran the brush through her hair once more, turning back to face the mirror. "Your fidgeting is most annoying."

Ven flinched slightly, not knowing that he had been making his movements so obvious, and straightened hurriedly, the words immediately forming on his lips. "Miss Xion, you must know... That I... That I care about you." He paused, watching her carefully. She didn't even bat an eyelid, so he bravely continued. "You must know that I do care, even when it seems like I don't. Your safety and comfort is my top priority but not just because you're a Princess."

This time, she did look at him, her face scrunched up into an incredulous frown which made the light dusting of freckles on her nose stand out. "Oh what are you blabbering on about this time, servant?" Her lips suddenly formed a sly smile, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Are you trying to confess your undying love to me? Truly, I'm flattered." She waved a hand at him, her bright expression fading. "But you are beneath me."

For a moment, Ven felt an amused smile flit across his face, but he sobered quickly. He held his head a little higher, kept his gaze trained on a random spot on the opposite wall and declared solemnly, "No. I'm trying to say goodbye."

Xion dropped her brush and swivelled around to face him, her hands coming to rest in her lap as she stared at him with wide eyes, "I beg your pardon...?"

He kept his gaze away from her, his brow furrowing. "There are circumstances, circumstances which require me to leave. I don't know what will happen to me, but either way, there is a great possibility that you won't see me again after today." At this, he spared her a quick glance and immediately wished he hadn't. She looked angry and despairing at the same time. "I don't want to leave, but this is about something much bigger than me."

"I demand to know what you are saying!" Xion barked, rising to her feet and crossing the room to stand in front of him.

Hesitantly, Ven reached out and took one of her hands. She gasped but didn't pull away and he took that as a sign of encouragement. "Xion, beneath all of your spoilt arrogance you're a wonderful person. I know you, believe me I do." He offered her a slight smile as she continued to stand there, staring at him agape and maybe slightly indignant. "You're witty, beautiful and strong. But you're also stubborn and prideful and you hate Naminé too much to see that she's not the one overshadowing you. You're doing it to yourself." She went to protest, but he blundered on, "So before I go, promise me that you'll stay strong and that you'll try, that you'll try to be different." He winced and lowered his head slightly. "I apologise if this offends you..."

But Xion didn't look offended, she looked confused. "Why are you telling me this? Why are you leaving?" She twisted her hand in his, grasping at his fingers. "I must come with you; you can't expect me to stay behind." She tried to smile, but her lips couldn't quit form the right shape. "After all, we have been through much together, you and I."

He pulled back, "No."

She immediately grabbed his shirt, holding onto it like it was a lifeline. "You are my servant! I go with you!" She snapped, her eyes wide and fearful as everything slowly began to slip through her fingers. She was a princess! Why couldn't she stop him? Why couldn't she make him see?

He gently pried her fingers away, breathing steadily as he replied softly, "No, you must stay. One day you'll be Queen." He took a step away from her, only to have her follow. His hands shot out to hold her in place, "I don't want you to be like your father. Xion, be different, be wonderful. Turn this Kingdom around." He reached a hand up to press against her cheek. "Do that for me?"

She didn't say anything. She couldn't. How could she make such a promise when he was planning or leave her behind?

She remained immobile as his hand fell away from her face, his frown returning as he turned to leave. Only then did Xion start, automatically reaching out for him like she was a child. "Ventus... Wait!" He paused, looking back at her. In a shaky voice, she managed to choke out, "Will I ever see you again?"

Ven's bravado faltered. He was truly leaving her behind. This would be his last memory of her.

"...Goodbye, Xion." He whispered as he fled from the room.

He didn't wait to see if she ran after him, didn't wait to listen for her pleas; he jogged down the corridor, away from his charge, not wanting to put himself through any more misery. He was, after all, fond of the girl and leaving her hurt him more than he wished to let on. She meant a lot to him, even if she was often cruel to him and took him for granted. He would do anything she asked, anything at all, just to see her smile and laugh at him, her eyes bright with enthusiasm. That is what he lived for — that rare moment of kindness, the special smile, the secretive giggles...

Xion was a bratty child and yet he loved her for who she was in in his own way; he saw her as someone he was willing to give his life for. And he was leaving her behind.

Ven stepped up his pace, moving swiftly towards the Royal Court Chamber only to slow to a halt when he saw Aqua slipping out, looking pale and shaken. She looked up wearily and caught sight of him instantly, her eyes brightening ever so slightly. "Ven, thank goodness."

The boy drew closer to her, casting a wary glance about the corridor. "Aqua, is something the matter?" He asked tentatively, without his usual enthusiasm, his farewell still weighing heavily on his shoulders. "What were you doing in there?"

"I don't have time to explain." Aqua declared softly, placing a gentle hand on his arm as she began to lead him away, her entire body tensed like a coiled spring. "We need to get down to the courtyard. The execution is due to start and we haven't a moment to lose."

Ven nodded once, allowing her to propel him down the corridor, too numb to really care where he was taken. "I'll collect everything we need." He assured, offering her a half-smile. She didn't return it and his smile dropped. "Have you hidden the sword?"

"Yes, behind the stables as planned. We'll be able to retrieve it on our way out." The young woman paused as they reached the main staircase, twitching nervously. This was where they would part ways for now. "You know what to do?" She asked, her eyes dark and serious as she stared up at him.

Again, Ven nodded, allowing his anguish over leaving Xion behind transform into determination. "Yes. After you've freed the prisoner, I head to the gates and wait for your signal. I create the diversion, cause a stir and then meet you as planned." He rehearsed it perfectly. He had memorised it after all. Their plan was by no means fool proof, but if they did everything right, they could pull it off.

Aqua seemed satisfied with his rattled off instructions, nodding confidently as she pulled him into a tight embrace. "Whatever happens, make sure you get out. If there is trouble, you leave me behind. If I can come to you, I will." She pulled back, ruffling his hair in her usual affectionate manner, although it seemed almost wistful this time. Ven picked up on it, but remained quiet. "Remember where we meet?"

Ven knew the plan like the back of his hand and might have said so, if it weren't for the panicked flash which appeared in Aqua's eyes. To soothe her anxiousness, he replied smoothly, "At the old mill on the outskirts of town. I wait for one day. If you don't appear..." He faltered, not liking this part of the plan at all. Above all else, this was the only part he objected to. How could he put himself above Aqua? "I... I find the Resistance. They'll protect me."

His best friend exhaled heavily, quite clearly relieved. She patted his arm reassuringly. "You're going to be okay, Ven. So long as you remember what to do, you'll be fine." She smiled a genuine smile. "I promise I'll do everything I can to make it out of here with you."

He could deal with that. He trusted Aqua tremendously. If she said she would do something, then she would. He shot her a small smile, lingered for a moment longer before taking off down the stairs two at a time, not glancing back out of the fear of losing another person close to him.

Aqua in the meantime watched him run off because, what else could she do? If she told him, he would freak out and the whole plan would be lost. No, she needed him to remain strong, for the two of them. Aqua descended down the stairs at a swift pace, heading for the courtyard where most of those who resided within the realm were convening.

It didn't take her long to stumble across the steady stream of servants filing out of the castles massive doors, each wearing varying expressions of discomfort and discontent. They disagreed with this just as much as she did, and yet they were unwilling to take action. And for good reason. Xehanort was ruthless and unforgiving. His wrath was deadly and cost many their lives.

Aqua found Olette rather quickly. She stood out like a sore thumb in the crowd of subdued servants, her anger and disgust radiating off her in waves. She hurried to the young girl's side, her hand grasping at her arm.

The brunette looked up, her green eyes startled. "Aqua!" She whispered harshly, pulling the woman into the line and glancing around uncertainly. "Where have you been? I've looked everywhere for you. The guards have gathered us early. Something about a double execution."

"I'm sorry; I was working in the Royal Wing." Aqua lied, hoping it would be enough to convince the prying servant. "I knew about the executions. It's awful, isn't it?"

Olette easily ate up the lie with a light roll of her eyes, but made no comment, her anger quickly returning. "I know. The man I understand, but the girl?" The brunette shook her head. "To execute her just because of who her sister is? It's despicable. The poor thing... I doubt anybody even knows she's here."

"Who's her sister?" Aqua asked, keeping an eye on the doors they were ever nearing. Her time was running out. Soon it would be time to put on a performance. And Xehanort was just going to let her escape. How she was to rescue the girl too, she had no idea, but she would do it.

The brunette was also watching the doors with a sick fascination. "Oh, her sister goes by the name of Lightning. She's a major figure of the Resistance; so naturally, Xehanort aims to crush anything associated with it." She tossed Aqua a disgusted glance at this, which she reciprocated. "The girl — Serah is her name — wasn't even in the Realm at the time. He sent scouts out specifically. He wants to hurt Lightning and the Resistance and knows this is the way to do it. Serah will be long dead before she even finds out."

Aqua's mind went back to her conversation with Terra. He'd said that Serah was important to somebody he knew... Could he possibly mean Lightning? If so, she now understood why he was so desperate. An attack directed at the heart of the Resistance would be crippling. Lightning would surely be provoked into a mindless attack in a bid for revenge. It would be a massacre.

The young woman didn't have chance to respond to Olette before they were being shoved through the double doors by the guards standing rigidly to attention. They stumbled out into the courtyard, blinking as the sunlight blinded them momentarily.

When Aqua could see again, she realised that Olette had been swept away into the crowd gathering around the base of the large platform stood in the middle of the courtyard, the hangman's noose awaiting the prisoners' demise.

She immediately began shoving past the people barring her way, squeezing and dodging the best she could, apologising to everyone she bumped or knocked during her anxious rush.

It didn't take her long to reach the foot of the stage, where she waited as the prisoners were led out onto the platform, their hands bound behind their backs, hoods covering their faces. Aqua tensed in anticipation.

The smaller figure, quite obviously the young girl she had seen wallowing in the cells was placed in front of a noose and the burly figure was shoved next to her. She knew that Xehanort only wanted them to suffer for as long as possible in their imminent death. He wanted to send a clear message to everyone else who might dare to rise against him; rebel against me and I'll have you killed.

The hoods were removed with swift yanks from the guards flanking their sides and the two prisoners immediately turned their gazes to the ground, blinking back the light which barraged their vision. The girl's face was filled with terror, her mouth parted as she huffed out several short breaths, her eyes wide and fearful. She scanned the sea of people before her, tears spilling down her cheeks as the guard slid the rope around her neck and stepped back.

Terra on the other hand, was tense. His face was devoid of emotion, but his entire body language screamed both fear and anger. As the noose was slipped around his neck, his eyes snapped up and stared directly into hers. His lips twitched into a tiny smile — a rather poor show of bravery — before offering her a barely distinguishable nod and tearing his gaze away again, scanning the crowds much like Serah had.

One of the guards who had escorted the prisoners up onto the platform reached into his tunic and pulled out a small scroll. He unravelled it and glanced up at the large balcony as Xehanort stepped out, his grin malicious. Xion, strangely enough, as nowhere to be seen, her usual place by his side was vacant, but nobody seemed to notice or care, least of all her own father. The King motioned for the guard to read the charges before taking a seat on the elaborate throne strategically placed on the balcony overlooking the courtyard.

The air around her was thick with tension as the servants and other townsfolk alike held their breath, waiting for the execution to start.

And start it did.

The guard cleared his throat and began to read in a terrifyingly booming voice, his words echoing throughout the courtyard. "Serah Farron, outlaw and vigilante. You are charged with treason and trespassing into the Realm of our gracious King. As a known associate of the Resistance and sister to the leader, you will be sentenced to death by hanging for your crimes."

The guard paused as Serah bowed her head, neither denying nor assenting to these claims. The crowd remained silent as the charges against the next prisoner were read out. "Terra, outlaw and violent criminal. You are charged with the attempted kidnapping and murder of our beloved princess, as well as several accounts of treason. For your crimes and deviance displayed in other situations regarding the Resistance opposing our gracious King, you are to be sentenced to death by hanging."

The second guard moved to stand before a large lever which would retract the boards beneath the prisoner's feet and send them to their deaths.

Aqua was shaking as she called upon her magic, urging it to come to her aid. Now was the vital moment. She would need to sever the ropes and release them before they choked. She could do it. She'd done it before. She turned her gaze to the balcony as Xehanort lifted a lazy hand and held it there, his fingers flexing. His golden eyes surveyed the scene below him for a moment longer before dropping his hand.

The guard yanked on the lever, the boards retracted and the prisoners dropped. Aqua summoned her magic, raised her palms to sever the ropes but before she could react, there was a distinct whistling sound and two arrows shot above the crowds heads, one directly after another, heading straight for the prisoners.

Whoever had released them must have had impeccable aim as the arrow heads sliced straight through the ropes and sent the two prisoners tumbling into the dirt beneath the platform.

And then everything transcended into chaos.

**····» **₪** «····**

Roxas had changed his plan. Saïx approved of it, claiming this to be the safer option, to which he had agreed to. Instead of calling Xehanort out and bargaining for Terra's life by revealing the capture of his daughter, Roxas had made the decision to simply spring his man loose, avoiding all confrontation with the dreaded King. Not only would this prevent his identity from being revealed, thus losing him any advantage he had, but it would also stop him from doing anything rash. Saïx had pointed out that if he had tried to negotiate for Terra's release, either he or Xehanort would have died in the process, gaining them nothing.

The likelihood of him failing after making these amendments were minimal and yet he still felt uneasy as he pulled his hood over his face and leaned into the gnarled staff Palom had given him to help with his disguise. His bow was tucked safely beneath his cloak, hidden by the padding provided by Porom and his sword was strapped to his hip, every so often tapping reassuringly against his thigh as if to remind him it was there.

The uneasy feeling didn't fade, even as he trudged into the courtyard undetected, immersing himself within the crowd of people gathered for the execution. Axel and Saïx were flanking him a good few feet away, their own disguises vaguely similar to his own. Riku and Palom were at the very back as far from harm as they could ever be, posing as cripples as they secretly scouted out the place, counting the guards and estimating the distances they would have to travel within a certain period of time in order to carry out the plan.

All around him, Roxas could easily pick out the townsfolk who had responded to his plea, their stances more rigid and threatening than those unaware. They had been told of the signal — when the time came, Roxas would fire an arrow and sever the rope dangling Terra above the ground. They would cause a riot, delaying the guards and subduing them if possible. They would keep it up for as long as possible, allowing Roxas and his men to escape during the madness. By no means, it wasn't fool proof, but it would work. If he knew Xehanort, he would be too enraged to do anything but order his men to attack, but by that point they would be disoriented and unable to do as ordered.

All of a sudden, the quiet murmurs around him ceased. He craned his neck slightly as he saw not one, but two prisoners being led out onto the platform, their faces hidden beneath sacks. He immediately spotted Terra, his burly mass easily distinguishable. The other, much to his horror, was a girl, not much older than himself, judging by her build and height.

They were each placed in front of a noose and their sacks stopped away. Roxas' eyes went to Terra, who looked more angered than afraid, which seemed very much like the man he knew. When his eyes strayed to the poor young girl beside him, his eyes widened and he started forwards, a startled noise slipping past his lips.

Serah.

She had visited her sister on the outskirts of the Realm Between, where their army was amassing and had left a mere few days ago with several riders. She hadn't been heard from since, but Lightning wasn't worried. If only she knew her beloved sister had been captured by the very enemy they hoped to destroy.

The nooses were slipped around their necks. By this point, Serah was crying. Terra was staring down at somebody by the foot of the stage, his lips curled into a smile. Roxas tried to peer over the heads of those in front of them to see who he was looking at, but they were concealed from his view.

It was then that their sentences were read out. The whole while, Roxas' hand kept itching back towards his bow, his anger rising with each word which passed the guards lips. The lot of it was a pack of lies. He turned his gaze to his side, seeking out his men whom he knew were nearby. He picked out Axel, his flaming red hair a dead giveaway, whereas Saïx adopted the more subtle approach, his hood drawn up to hide his recognisable features. Both of them were ready to strike.

The lever was pulled. The boards beneath both Serah and Terra's feet were retracted. The two of them dropped.

During this time, Roxas had whipped off his cloak, notched an arrow into his bow, aimed directly at Terra's taught rope and released. His hand immediately snapped back for a second arrow; he notched it and once again released, sending it sailing towards Serah this time.

His aim was perfect. The rope frayed before severing altogether. The two prisoners fell to the ground.

And in that moment, everything seemed to explode. The townsfolk let out mighty yells and charged; they ran straight for the guards, barrelling them to the ground and smacking them over the heads with large rocks or blunt objects they'd smuggled into the courtyard. The innocent people, completely unaware as to what was happening either started screaming and running for cover or took up arms and joined the fight.

Roxas sheathed his bow and raced towards the platform, drawing his sword to cut down a guard who strayed into his path. Another came at him from the side, yelling and waving his weapon like a madman. The blond sidestepped the amateur swing, slashed his blade upwards, cutting through the tough leather of the man's armour. The guard staggered back, one hand clutching at his wound, the other still holding onto his weapon as he tried again to stab the outlaw. It was almost too easy. With another well aimed strike, the man was down and out for the count.

Guards were all over the place; up in the battlements, spread out across the courtyard, pouring out from the castle, all in an attempt to combat the threat which had presented itself. Xehanort was standing on the balcony, his face a picture of rage as he shouted out orders to his men, his anger practically thrumming in the air around him. Roxas couldn't stifle the snort of amusement which slipped past his lips.

He cast his eyes about the place, keeping his weapons at the ready as he took the moment he had been given to locate his men and, hopefully, Terra. It didn't take him too long to pinpoint several familiar figures.

Not too far away, both Axel and Saïx were fighting alongside each other, slashing and hacking at the guards who were foolish enough to step into their path. They made a good team, always had, their friendship and fierce loyalty to one another was the driving force behind their evident ferocity and mercilessness. They attacked as one unit, stabbing and feinting to the side, playing off each others strengths. Even to this day, Roxas was impressed by their skills in the heat of battle.

In the distance, Riku was also holding his own against a particularly burly guard with large breastplates and deadly looking weapons. Of course he hadn't been able to stay away; he never had been very good at following orders, especially when it concerned his brother, but Roxas was too preoccupied to do anything about it. Even he had to admit that Riku was almost as skilled as his brother, wielding his sword like it was an extension of his arm. Jab, slash, hack... Yet another body hit the ground.

Palom in the meanwhile was nowhere to be seen, which wasn't too surprising as the sorcerer was more than capable of using his magic from a distance to tackle his enemies and protect those around him. Every now and again, the tell-tale flash of his magic or the abnormal scene of a body flying through the air could be seen across the battlefield as Palom used his magic to keep the brunt of the forces away from civilians and his fellow men, all the while remaining hidden from view.

Roxas continued glancing at the disarray around him as he began making his way through the screaming women and sobbing children, watching out for any guards trying to catch him unaware. His eyes soon came to land upon a scene going unnoticed by all else, a scene which surprised him enough to stop him in his tracks. A young woman he did not recognise was helping Terra to his feet, a mere few meters away from the platform he had almost been hung from. Slumped against him was Serah, her arm wrapped around his shoulders.

The woman removed the noose from his neck, pressing her hand against his cheek for a fleeting moment before coming to Serah's aid, taking her place on the young girl's other side.

It was then he noticed the two guards rushing at the three of them, their weapons raised, ready to cut them down. He didn't have any time to think about it.

Roxas was already running before he knew what was happening, his sword held out behind him. He sprinted mindlessly towards an abandoned cart which had been thrown across the courtyard at some point during the chaos — most likely Palom's doing, he thought — and leapt up onto it, racing across it to reach his goal. He dived off the edge of the cart, swinging his sword around in a wide arc, slashing across the back of the first guard. Roxas deftly tucked himself into a neat roll and sprung to his feet, kicking the guard away and bringing his sword down into the foot of the unsuspecting second. The man let out an anguished howl, toppling gracelessly onto his back as the blonde retrieved his blade and held it ready, his head bowed.

He looked up. Terra was watching him with wide, surprised eyes. A grin soon stole its way across his face and he nodded once, expressing his gratitude. And then he was moving, the young woman he'd seen helping him dragging him along towards the gate. He didn't have time to dwell on whether or not she meant Terra harm, only that she was doing the right thing by leading him out of the fray.

He wanted to move after them, to make sure they got to safety, but was prevented from doing so as yet another guard ploughed towards him. This man wielded lances in the most peculiar fashion, an almighty bellow tearing out of his mouth as he launched forwards to skewer him. With a simple flick and twist of his sword, Roxas deflected the hit and jabbed towards the man's stomach. His blow missed by a hairs breadth as the guard recoiled, slashing his weapon down to protect himself.

Almost immediately, the man was on the offensive again, swinging both of his lances around in an attempt to confuse the young blonde. It didn't work. With each slash, Roxas dodged or parried the blows, darting out to land one of his own.

Roxas feinted left and jabbed right, ducking a swing and parrying what would have been a terrific hit. He rolled forwards as the man threw one of his lances directly at his head, bringing his blade around to slice at the backs of his heels. The guard roared in pain and fell to his knees, feebly swiping at the boy who had cleverly evaded him.

Roxas circled the guard, his sword trained on the man's chest. "You fight sloppily." He declared harshly, his voice dark. "I could kill you easily, but I won't. I have a message that needs to be delivered to the King." He mercilessly ran his sword through the man's shoulder as he attempted to struggle to his feet, growling in protest. It was enough to quell his actions, causing the man to let out a sharp cry of surprise and pain. Roxas leaned in towards the groaning guard and hissed dangerously, "Tell him that the Resistance is coming for his head."

**····» **₪** «····**

Ven wasn't sure what was happening. One moment he was standing beside the large well in the courtyard, at the very back of the mob of people surrounding the stage, awaiting the execution to start and in the next, everything was in utter chaos. People were screaming and yelling, running in all different directions, some taking up arms against the guards flanking the crowd and began battering them to the ground.

He didn't even have a moment to figure out what had caused such an uproar — he ran straight for the gates, all the while being pushed and shoved as people tried to escape, before finally stumbling out into the lower town. He detached himself from the swarm of villagers and headed towards the blacksmith's stables, trusting in Aqua's plan and in Aqua herself — she would come, he knew it.

But still, he couldn't imagine that Aqua had been the one to cause such a devastating uproar in her bid to rescue the prisoners. It just didn't make sense. Something else must have happened. Perhaps someone had tried to attack the prisoners? But that wouldn't explain the fact that the guards were attacking the civilians and that the civilians themselves were retaliating.

He slipped behind the stables, retrieved their belongings which he had stashed away earlier and sifted out the sword from underneath all of the hay piled up against the side of the crumbling building. Ven cautiously crouched down behind a bale of straw as the chaos continued to spread throughout the town. Guards raced by, either chasing citizens or being chased themselves by angry mobs of people with pitchforks and other gardening utensils. As the violence escalated and the panic rose, Ven couldn't help but think that this hadn't been a part of Aqua's plan.

He was, however, slightly amused in the fact that he had been waiting to create a distraction of some sorts, when one suddenly occurred of its own accord. He could just imagine the look on Xehanort's face as the chaos broke out and took satisfaction in the fact that he would have to spend a fair amount of time sorting everything out, by which point they would be several leagues away, if not already across the border.

The sound of somebody approaching brought Ven out of his thoughts. He straightened hurriedly, his hands gripping at the handle of the sword tightly, his entire body tense with anticipation. Never in his life had he wielded such a weapon and never in his life had he ever thought that he would need to, but with his life on the line, he had no choice.

When Aqua came careening round the corner in a complete frenzy, he felt his entire body sag with relief, the sword in his hand trembling slightly in his grip.

The young woman came to a stop in front of him, placing her hands on his shoulders and leaning into his face. "Ven?" She looked down and gently removed the sword from his limp hands, offering him an understanding smile. "I'm glad you're safe. In the chaos, I... I was worried."

"Where is the prisoner?" Ven asked slowly, his eyebrows knitting together as he peered over Aqua's shoulders.

Aqua looked slightly sheepish as she stepped aside, tossing a glance back the way she had come. "About that... I didn't get chance to tell you, but—"

A deep voice cut her off, "Aqua, we need to leave now. The guards are getting closer."

Ven looked towards the source of the voice in surprise, his eyes narrowing with instant suspicion as he came face to face with the man he knew had tried to hurt Xion and a pretty pink haired girl draped across his shoulders, in obvious pain.

The brunette seemed to register the second presence and immediately turned his head to meet Ven's gaze from where he was standing. His eyebrows shot up into his hairline, his face marring with confusion as he studiously scanned the boy's features.

The blond stared straight back with distrusting eyes, his gaze darting between the man and the young woman he was supporting, his expression unsure.

They stayed like that for a while, staring at one another, neither relenting until the prisoner straightened and narrowed his eyes. "Roxas?"

* * *

**A/N:** ...and that's all, folks! This chapter was a little bugger to write. The ending was impossible, any scene including Aqua was agonising to write (I threw my tablet down in frustration at least half a dozen times) and then Ven's scenes just popped up out of nowhere and refused to disappear, which was why there was no Naminé in this chapter — it would have been absolutely humongous if I had included it, so I've saved it for later. I think you can all agree with me when I say that my chapters are pretty huge enough as it is hehehe...

I really apologise for the lack of particular characters in this chapter — I needed to get all of this down as it's the introduction to the main plot which spans across the whole fic and really kick-starts the majority of my thoroughly thought out ideas/scenarios.

From now on, I hope to draw away from Aqua's arc a bit and spend more time delving into the slow development of Naminé and Roxas' relationship and what eventually draws them together. Of course I'll go back to other characters to fill out their story, backgrounds and progressing relationships, but I'm going to try (keyword here: try) to put more of a spotlight on the main couple.

And last thing before I leave you wonderful lot: thank you for taking the time to read this fic and of course, for leaving your fantastic reviews. You guys are all awesome and I love each and every one of you!

_~AusisWinds-13_


	6. Defiance

**A/N: **Here's the chapter for you all! Thanks for being patient and as supportive as ever. ^^ Enjoy~

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any Kingdom Hearts or Final Fantasy characters!

* * *

**Chapter Six :: Defiance**

The man seemed to realise his mistake as soon as he spoke. The boy's face twisted into an unreadable expression, confusion radiating off him in waves. This boy, regardless of the striking resemblance to his commander, was not Roxas. He was somebody completely different, the very servant Aqua had mentioned during her visits.

"Why did you call me Roxas?" The boy asked slowly, taking a wary step towards him, his eyes narrowed with evident suspicion and perhaps with a hint of panic. "Who is Roxas?"

Terra tried to backpedal, his gaze darting towards Aqua for help. The woman was packing things into several buck-skin satchels, her head bent away from him, apparently having not heard their conversation. Finally he forced himself to look back towards the boy — Ven, he was sure his name was — and squared his shoulders. "I apologise, I must have mistook you for someone else."

Ven clearly wasn't convinced, but Terra was saved from hearing his reply as Aqua straightened and tossed one of the bags at the boy. "We should leave. Xehanort won't be disoriented for long. He'll come after us." She glanced over at the man, holding the sword out to him cautiously. "You...you should take the lead. We'll help Serah."

"Alright." Terra conceded with a dip of his head, accepting the weapon from the woman before gently helping Serah to lean against the wall of the nearby stable. "I'll look ahead. Stay here and wait for me to get back. I'll do what I can to clear us a path." He paused for a moment longer, his eyes locking with the mysterious boy who looked so much like his leader before taking off down one of the nearby alleys.

He had much to think about. He knew for a fact that he had seen Roxas earlier — he had saved them twice. But this boy, whoever he was, no matter the obvious similarities, was somebody different entirely.

Terra was in turmoil. Who on earth could he be? Roxas never mentioned a twin, or any family of any kind. Axel might know, but even then the chances were slim. Roxas was known to keep to himself.

The only option available would be to talk to the young man himself — well, if they managed to get out of the citadel alive that is.

**····» **₪** «····**

Xehanort burst into his throne room, his roar echoing about the grand hall as he stalked back and forth, his face crumpled with anger. "How on earth did this happen? She made a _mockery_ of me! She defied _me_!" He spun on his heel to face Vanitas as he materialised in a mass of shadows, his helmet tucked beneath his arm. Xehanort's face twisted even more as he yelled at the boy, "_You_! Where were you?"

If he was unnerved by Xehanort's display, he didn't show it. Instead, Vanitas arched a cool eyebrow at him and scoffed, his golden eyes disinterested. "Don't blame me. I'm not the one who underestimated some _woman."_

The King threw his arms out, his voice rising with his blinding rage. "And yet you did _nothing _to stop it!" The man's lips curled into a cruel smirk as he began to circle the boy, "If I did not know any better, Vanitas, I would question your loyalties and say you have a soft spot for her."

Vanitas' eyes narrowed to slits. Never had he ever been accused of being soft. He was an assassin, an entity of the shadows, born of the _Darkness_ itself. To be branded as something so weak and so pathetic like those whom he so often hunted was an insult. He rounded on his King, a warning growl tearing past his lips, "Do not patronize me, old man. I hardly have feelings for some maiden. If it comes to it, I'll gladly dispose of her myself."

The old man let out a bloodcurdling snarl, grasping a handful for the organic suit which had been moulded to his body since birth. He lifted the boy clean off the ground and shook him sharply enough to make his bones rattle, bellowing directly into his face, "And yet you did _nothing to stop her_! You let her waltz away with both of my prisoners!"

He didn't want to make a show of struggling to release himself and so Vanitas allowed his body to go limp, one hand wrapped around the man's wrist as he glared down at him. "You're the one who gave her the go-ahead for her little plan, not me." His lips suddenly split into a crude grin. "You clearly didn't exert enough leverage upon her, which is poor forward planning on your part."

Xehanort threw him to the ground and raised a hand to strike the boy, his face twisted beyond recognition. Vanitas barely suppressed a flinch, refusing to give the man satisfaction of seeing his hidden fear. He braced himself for the blow which would surely send him flying, when a knock at the door stopped the King in his tracks.

He turned towards the door, snapping coldly over his shoulder, "I'll deal with you later." The large oak door opened to reveal two of his most reliable guards. Xehanort forced himself to appear calm; ignoring the wary glances the two men shot Vanitas while bowing. Once they straightened, the King clasped his hands together and addressed them both, "Ah, Dilan. Lexaeus. So kind of you to arrive in such haste. Did you find anything?"

It was Dilan who spoke, his face remarkably impassive as he held up two unbranded arrow shafts. "The arrows are unremarkable, sir." He offered them to the King, who turned them over and scrutinised them heavily. "They could belong to anyone."

This news did not seem to sit well with the man, whose rage surfaced once again, his hands easily snapping the arrows in half. "I want the culprit found!" He threw the shafts to the ground, his voice rising to a yell, "I want whoever is responsible for this killed for their treason! And as for that _woman..._ I'll deal with her myself."

Both Dilan and Lexaeus seemed to pale at the display, backing away slowly, the latter clearing his throat. "Also, your Majesty, one of the guards apparently fought with one of the rebels. He was asked to pass on a message."

Xehanort's eyes narrowed, his temper flaring. "What was the message?"

Swallowing heavily, Lexaeus recited what he had been told, "The Resistance is coming for your head."

Xehanort's face twisted horribly. He made a sharp gesture to the guards, releasing them from his presence. The two guards bowed deeply and left in a hurry, leaving the King alone with his slave. After a moment of charged silence, Xehanort chuckled coldly, "So they want to play games. The leader of the great Organization XIII thinks he can outwit me?" He whipped around and barked, "Vanitas! Hunt down that woman! As soon as you find my niece, kill her friends and bring them both to me."

Vanitas rose to his feet, rolling his shoulders and dusting off his arms. "I'll need men." He commented offhandedly, refusing to even look at the man a few feet away from him. "Not even I can take that many outlaws on my own, as much as it would amuse me."

"Take who you need. I care not what you do." Xehanort muttered brusquely, stalking towards the large black marble throne, his strides long and furious. He lowered himself into it with ease, turning his smirk back on the boy. "But I warn you; do _not_ fail me this time, or else Aqua will not be the only one I dispose of once you return."

Vanitas vanished into a mass of swirling shadows, cursing the very moment he had even tried to help such an accursed woman.

**····» **₪** «····**

Naminé was verging on complete and utter boredom. After spending what felt like several hours on end cooped up inside a tent with nothing to do but count the seconds go by while waiting for Porom to make the odd appearance with new fire wood or food which she had yet to touch, she was beginning to get a little stir crazy.

She had taken to pacing her tent a few times, but this only resulted in frayed nerves and sore feet. There was also the ever increasing issue regarding her dress. Not only did she find that she was constantly tripping over her own bare feet whenever she attempted to walk, but it was also beginning to make her rather warm as the material was unbearably heavy and highly impractical.

After flapping her hands in front of her cheeks to cool her flushed skin for what must have been the seventh time in the past half hour, Naminé decided that enough was enough. She cautiously crossed over to where she had dumped the clothing she had been given, holding up the dark pants and sniffing at them delicately. Much to her surprise, they gave off no aroma of any kind, which could only mean that they must have been substantially and thoroughly cleaned before being given to her. The same went for the shirt. As for the worn leather boots, well, Naminé refused to even touch them. To walk around bare footed was a price she was more than willing to pay.

The young Princess gingerly folded the foreign clothing over one of her arms and walked towards the wooden screen at the back of the tent with the intention to change. She flung the items of clothing on top of the towel she had noticed earlier and reached up to unlace her dress, arching her shoulder blades back. Her fingers fumbled feebly at the awkwardly placed strings and buttons, groping mindlessly for something she could not see.

Not one to give up so easily, Naminé strained her hands further up, letting out a small irritated noise when the lace remained stubbornly out of her reach.

"I can help with that if you'd like?" Somebody offered kindly.

The girl flinched and whirled around, having not heard the tell-tale sign of somebody entering the tent. She came face to face with Porom, who watched her sympathetically, her eyes warm. She made a gesture towards her dress. "You can't reach the lace. I can help, if you would like?"

Warily, Naminé nodded slowly, turning her back on the young woman and pulling her hair — which had long since fallen out of the intricate braid she had had it in — over her shoulder and out of the way.

Porom began to unlace the back of her dress, her fingers not as nimble or as quick as Aqua had been, but she was sufficient and so Naminé made no comment. She was thankful for the silence. Of course, it did not last long, for Porom soon spoke.

"I didn't mean to startle you." The young woman murmured, "I called out to you, but you didn't reply, so I took it upon myself to see if you were well."

For some reason, Naminé felt her hackles rise. Irritated by how the woman had worded her sentence, the Princess snapped, "I did not hear you enter, is all." She tossed the woman a scathing glance. "You did not frighten me. I am not so easily spooked."

Porom appeared unperturbed by Naminé's sudden display of anger, a jovial chuckle passing her lips. "I never made any implications of you being afraid, Princess." She pursed her lips suddenly, her fingers pausing to undo the last button. "Ah! I do believe that's the last one." She clicked her tongue and stepped away, her smile bright.

The blonde blinked and tilted her head so she could see the back of her dress. And sure enough, the lace hung loose and all of the buttons had been undone. Naminé couldn't recall Aqua ever being so fast, which irked her for some reason. Begrudgingly, the Princess looked up at Porom and nodded weakly, "Thank...thank you."

The young woman's face lit up until she was practically beaming with appreciation. Hastily, the girl looked away and reached for the first garment she planned to change into, however reluctantly. But given the circumstances and her location, these clothes she had been given would be much more practical.

"I'll let you get changed." Porom conceded politely, backing out from being the screen to give the Princess some privacy.

Thankful for a moment to herself, Naminé collected her thoughts. Porom, she was beginning to realise, was being kind of her own accord and not because she had been ordered to. If she had been told to watch over her, she had absolutely no reason to be so accommodating toward her, which left the Princess to assume it was all a genuine show of kindness. Naminé didn't know what to make of that.

Never, in her entire life, had she ever been shown this measure of voluntary kindness, aside from Aqua on the occasion Naminé was not threatening her. She knew that it was sad that she had never known such generosity. Had her parents lived, she was sure she would know how to react to something like this, how to properly convey gratitude, but as they were long gone and she had been entrusted into Xehanort's care, any loving gentleness she had once possessed had been swept away and turned into hatred.

Perhaps she could one day learn how to be generous and gentle, but today was not that day. She knew only how to reject and shut out. However, with someone like Porom around, she wasn't sure how much longer such an act would last.

Her mind still reeling, Naminé allowed her dress to tumble off her shoulders and onto the ground in the muffled sound of rustling fabric. She reached for the pants, pulling them on first, despite her disgust. They hugged her legs in a rather ridiculous manner, but they were made out of tough, durable material, likely to withstand fraught conditions. The tunic was next. It, thankfully, swathed her form. It was loose fitting and spread flat across her chest, the neckline ending just beneath the base of her throat. Admittedly, it hung of her shoulders ever so slightly, but it wasn't bad enough to get on her nerves.

The sleeves, she noted with great relief, came way past her wrists, ending at the heel of her palm, hiding her scars from any prying eyes. The skin from where she had been bound was still slightly tender and could probably do with being bathed in cool water, but it wasn't something Naminé was immediately concerned about. No, rather she was more concerned with how she was supposed to escape.

She knew Roxas and his men had left to save one of their own from an untimely death, leaving her with a golden opportunity. All she need do was somehow rid herself of Porom, steal one of the remaining horses and high-tail it for the next Kingdom. She wanted no more part in this plot to bring down Xehanort. She wanted her freedom. If Xehanort were to be defeated, then by all means, she would quite happily celebrate…only, somewhere other than where she currently was.

"Princess? Is everything alright?" Porom called from the other side of the wooden screen, her voice tinged with concern. Naminé had almost forgotten her presence.

She stepped out from behind the screen, tilting her chin back slightly as the young woman appraised her with a thoughtful expression.

Porom smiled widely and she nodded, satisfied. "You could almost pass for one of us." She blinked and hurried to amend her statement at the disapproving scowl which appeared on Naminé's face. "What I mean is, you look like one of us, but you hold yourself like royalty. It's quite easy to tell you apart."

Naminé was still scowling, but she chose to accept the comment and brushed past the young woman, heading towards the entrance of the tent. She fancied taking a look around the place. If she were to run into that young man — Demyx, she believed his name was — again, she wouldn't mind. His music had been most pleasing. She could also figure out what to do next...

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Porom called, stopping the girl in her tracks.

Forcing herself to remain calm, the blonde half turned towards her again, her eyebrows drawing together as she saw the items Porom held up in her hands. The dreaded boots. Feigning nonchalance, Naminé blinked innocently. "Why, I have no idea what you mean."

Porom frowned sternly. "You can't go walking around barefoot. Goodness knows what kind of injuries you'd pick up." She thrust the leather monstrosities into the Princess' hands. "And if they get infected, it'll be nasty business."

"But you are capable of magic." Naminé stated dumbly, holding the boots out at arm's length. She turned up her nose. "Couldn't you just...make it go away?"

The woman laughed and shook her head. "Oh no, magic doesn't work like that. I could heal you, sure." She lifted her shoulders. "But if the infection has set in, there's nothing I could do to help."

The girl turned her gaze on the boots, glaring wordlessly down at the diabolical items she would soon be forced to wear. She supposed it was either that or end up suffering from an infected wound. It wasn't that she was afraid of the pain — she'd been through enough as it was — she just didn't think she could stand another scar. And so, she crossed over to the bed, sat down and moved to pull the things on.

Once her feet were settled snug inside, Porom knelt down in front of her to tie the thick string into a knot to keep them in place. "There!" She bounced to her feet and brushed off her hands. "All done." She started towards the entrance of the tent, pausing briefly to look over at the Princess. "How about I show you around? You've been cooped up in here since you arrived. It'll do you good to get out for a bit."

Naminé opened her mouth to reject her offer, only to realise that she was right — it would do her good to get out for a short while. Not only would it keep her entertained for a while, but it would provide her with an opportunity to scope out the camp. Perhaps she could escape at nightfall. It was all a matter of planning.

And so, the Princess nodded once and followed the woman out into the camp. The sun was slowly beginning to set by now, the soft golden rays shining down upon the small valley where the outlaws had set up their refuge.

Porom led her towards the back of the camp, where a large ring of logs were positioned around a pit obviously meant for firewood. Sitting on one of these logs was a man she had not seen before. With slate grey hair covering most of his face, it was hard to make out any of his distinguishing features. He was bent over a large book with a quill in hand, feverishly writing away in a quick scrawl. Curious, Naminé edged a little closer to see what he was writing.

As if suddenly noticing her presence, his head snapped up. A singular dark blue eye was all that was visible from beneath his mass of hair, but that was all she needed to deduce that he was a man of great intelligence. It wasn't so much his appearance which gave her this impression, but rather the calculating glint in his eye which made her feel a little uncomfortable. He watched her silently, his gaze traveling up and down her form before flicking towards Porom. "Is this her?" He asked, his voice soft and quiet.

The young woman beside her offered the man a shrug. "Sure is." Porom nodded over at the man for Naminé's benefit. "This is Zexion. He's kind of like our strategist, among other things. He's the real brains of the group; a genius."

When Zexion bowed his head out of obvious embarrassment, Naminé found herself taking an instant liking towards the man. He was humble, yet utterly clever; the type of person she could bring herself to respect. She took a step towards him, indicating awkwardly to herself. "My name is Naminé."

He straightened, his lips quirking into a tiny smile. "And she speaks." He placed his book and quill aside, rising steadily to his feet. He dipped his head shortly. "It is an absolute pleasure to meet you, Princess Naminé."

"And you, as well." She replied curtly. She turned to Porom, who was watching her with an amused smile as their short conversation took place. Naminé shook herself down, scowling slightly. "Shall we?"

Porom chuckled, waved to Zexion and began heading deeper into the camp. Naminé spared the slate haired man a small smile of her own as she trailed behind the young woman, taking note of how many tents there were and how likely she was to be seen when sneaking out. Judging by the soft snorts and high pitched neighs coming from a few tents over, the horses must be quite nearby, which would surely aid her in the future.

But despite her situation, she was finding it hard to concentrate on the task at hand. From the corner of her eye, she could see the young woman in her company steal the odd glance at her, making it ridiculously obvious that she was looking at her. Her expression was hard to identify. After a few more strides, Naminé forcefully turned towards her. "What is it?"

Porom started, looking rather embarrassed at having been caught. "You never told me your name before." She shook her head and looked away. "It's just... It's familiar." When she met the girl's gaze again, the smile was back. "Is it alright if I call you Naminé?"

Naminé sighed. She would never understand the actions of the common person. "I'd much prefer it to being called Princess all of the time." She replied curtly, walking ahead of the woman as the sound of neighing grew louder. She rounded one of the tents and entered a small clearing where the horses she had seen from earlier were tied to the post, either grazing at the grass or nuzzling each other with their velvety noses.

She slowed to a halt, marvelling at the beasts from afar, finding herself particularly drawn to a beautiful chestnut with a white star on his forehead. Wanting to draw nearer, yet uncertain of whether she would startle the creature, Naminé hovered a few feet away, her eyes gliding from horse to horse. Porom, of course, came to stand beside her, a silent companion.

"Which one belongs to you?" Naminé asked suddenly, breaking the silence which had settled between them. She hadn't meant to say those words aloud — she would be opening herself up for a conversation she didn't really want to have.

Porom seemed surprised also, her head snapping in Naminé's direction. For a moment, she said nothing, turning her gaze back to the horses standing in front of them before murmuring softly, "The dapple grey at the back. He gets pretty boisterous around my brother's horse, so it's hard to control him."

Naminé nodded in understanding. Back when she had first arrived at Castle Oblivion, she used to spend a lot of time in the royal stables with the stable boy, Hayner, so it was safe to say she knew what to expect from horses and their mannerisms. It was something she missed; being around the horses.

"Have you ever ridden?" Porom inquired, tilting her head to the side in question, her eyes still fixated on the beasts.

"Not properly. Xehanort forbid me from riding, to...to set me apart." The Princess responded, tucking her hands behind her back self-consciously and hurried to continue, "I... I did spend a lot of time around horses though."

Unfortunately, the young woman had picked up on what she had so desperately tried to hide and immediately called her out on it. "What do you mean he tried to 'set you apart'?" She demanded, her voice still as gentle as ever, only laced with slight anger.

Naminé was confused, as her anger was completely unfounded — why did she care anyway? Fingering at her sleeves, the girl glanced down at the ground, her insides twisting like she found they quite often did whenever she spoke about Xehanort. "He's always made a point of treating his proper daughter — Xion — better than me. She would get all of the gifts; a new pony every month, a diamond necklace, beautiful dresses and expensive dolls. I wasn't allowed to ride and the only time he would give me a necklace or other gift was either to insult me or punish me."

She didn't look at Porom, knowing what she would see in her eyes. People would either look at her in pity or disgust. She knew this and quite frankly, she was sick of it. She was tired of the pity, fed up of the disgust, through with the long looks. She often wondered that if she was just an average person if others would still look at her in the same way, or if they'd simply ignore her, playing down her problems for something trivial. She would find the latter a lot easier to deal with.

"He'll pay one day, you know." Porom muttered from her elbow, her voice angry and passionate. Naminé found herself looking up out of shock. "He's ruined so many lives, yours included it would seem. He won't get away with it. The Resistance will see to that."

Not knowing quite what to say, Naminé looked back down at the ground, scuffing her ugly boots against the dirt. To divert the attention away from herself, she tried to deflect Porom's statement onto her instead, having picked up on her bitter tone. "What did he do to you?"

Porom visibly stiffened, having not expected such a personal question from such an impersonal girl. Slowly, she began, "He... He killed my parents, when Palom and I were young. Really young." The woman swallowed heavily, the memories flooding through her mind thick and fast. "You see, we lived in a village on the outskirts of his Realm, where we freely practiced magic. He wanted to extinguish all magic users from the Kingdom and so he started with us, to set an example." Porom closed her eyes. "Ever since then, we've been fighting against him."

Naminé found herself even more speechless than before. She watched Porom with wide eyes, surprised to hear of a story so similar to her own. She opened her mouth to speak, but was sharply cut off as the sound of approaching hooves sounded through the forest.

It was as though the entire camp had burst into life. Zexion appeared out of nowhere, alongside Demyx and a man with short blond hair and a goatee Naminé didn't recognise. Larxene and that same male from earlier came out of their respective tents, all facing the entrance of the camp. Even Porom seemed to be on the alert, her face bright.

The thundering sound of hooves grew louder and louder until several horses burst into the modest camp, their riders wearing varying expressions of anger and frustration. Roxas came trotting into the centre, his face devoid of any emotion as he swung down from his horse and tied it hastily to the post alongside the others.

Apparently, their mission had not gone well, as there was not another soul in sight to suggest that they had indeed rescued the outlaw as they had intended.

The silver haired young man leapt down from his saddle, closely followed by Axel and Palom, and strode noisily over to his commander. "You said you'd get him out!" He accused angrily, shoving Roxas roughly.

The blond wheeled on the man, his natural expression slipping, revealing the anger hidden beneath. "I did everything I could, Riku. I saw him escape with my own eyes. He could very well be on his way here. Do not assume that I stood by and did nothing!"

The young man apparently wasn't very satisfied with this answer, as he bunched his hand into a fist and swung it at Roxas. Much to Naminé's surprise, the blonde caught the blow with one hand and twisted Riku's wrist sharply, causing the man to cry out in pain, the sound of bones grinding and crunching clearly audible. He pushed Riku away, releasing his hold on the man, glaring at him as he brought his injured wrist to his chest. "Get that looked at." He muttered before disappearing off towards his tent.

Immediately, Palom and Porom were by Riku's side, checking his wrist for any sign of a break or sprain, while Saïx stepped down from his own horse and moved to speak with Axel, his expression serious. The other outlaws either drifted back to their tents or stood around to converse with one another.

Naminé, in the meantime, stared after Roxas and found that she was furious. Furious at Roxas, or furious at her entire situation, she wasn't sure, but either way she took off after the blond. She did not know what it was she planned to do, only that she wanted to have a good yell at him for being so cold and cruel.

She tore open the flap to his tent and stood in the entrance, her hands coming to rest on her hips as she glared defiantly at the back of the young man's head.

"Not now, Saïx. I wish to be left in peace." Roxas growled lowly, hid head ducked towards the surface of the desk, already describing away at a piece of parchment of some kind.

For some reason she could not fully comprehend, his words struck a dark chord within her. "You think you can just get away with treating your men like that? You think you can just injure them and tell them to 'get it looked at'?" She yelled, her voice rising steadily with her temper.

The young man froze in his chair and straightened slowly, the quill in his hand falling to the side.

Nowhere near finished, Naminé continued. "That man may indeed have been out of line when he went to hit you, but that gives you no right to hurt him so! You might be their commander, but you do not control them!" Passion and anger fuelling her words, she let out a frustrated cry. "You're quick to say you're not Xehanort, and yet you treat them the way he does his lackeys!"

In what seemed like a flash, Roxas was on his feet. He whirled around and stalked towards her, his face as dark and as foreboding as thunder. "You, of all people, do not have the right to say that! I am better than that man, so much better! I am nothing like him!" He leaned in close towards her, towering over her threateningly. "You have no right to say anything. You're nothing but a bastard child of a bastard king!"

Naminé didn't even have time to comprehend what was happening. In one moment, she was trembling with rage and in the next she had lifted her hand and slapped him right across his face. Angry tears stung her eyes, her breathing was uneven and heavy and her entire body shuddered. She stayed still for a moment longer before turning on her heel and fleeing from the tent. Despite her utter refusal to cry, the tears still fell.

**····» **₪** «····**

Nobody came to see her that evening, not even Porom. Or at least, not that she knew of. Naminé remained curled up on the bed, her arms wrapped loosely around her knees, facing the wall of the tent. Her tears hadn't lasted long, but she had felt exhausted all the same and had soon fallen into a fitful sleep, only to awaken feeling even worse a few hours later.

The sun had long since set, casting dark shadows across her body. Despite the chill which seeped into her bones, Naminé continued to lie there, staring blankly at the canvas across from her. She had intended to escape that very evening — God, she wanted to escape now more than ever — but found that she could not even rouse herself from the bed. His words kept replaying over and over in her mind, taunting her. She had been called many things in her life, but a bastard child was not one of them. And the fact that she wasn't even Xehanort's real daughter somehow made matters worse.

Naminé held her knees a little tighter. All of her life, Xehanort had called her a mistake, a plague upon the earth, a waste of space and for a while she had believed it, until she realised that his opinion didn't matter. But hearing Roxas say those words, it made her wonder if Xehanort really had been right. And if there was one thing she hated, it was self-doubt.

There was laughter coming from outside. There was probably also food and a warm fire, too, but Naminé would not rise. She would rather freeze or starve. The one thing she had learned from Roxas' outburst was that she could only trust herself; nobody else was worth opening up to. They would only end up letting her down.

Just as she had thought this, her stomach rebelled against her, letting out a loud grumble of protest. When was the last time she had eaten? And what had she eaten anyway? If memory served her well, and it quite often did, then her last meal — in fact, she wasn't sure if it even counted as a meal — had been with Xehanort and her cousin upon Xion's return. With this knowledge, her stomach growled even louder. It was no use, she had to eat.

Naminé sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, staring thoughtfully over at the entrance to her tent. For all that she was meant to be a hostage, she found that she wasn't really being treated as such — she had been granted a free reign and could traverse the camp, within reason. Nobody bothered to guard her night and day — as the camp was so small, it wouldn't take a lot for someone to spot her and keep an eye on her activities.

With a determined huff, the Princess rose to her feet and strode towards the entrance. She wasn't sure what she was going to do exactly; all she wanted was food after all. She had no idea where to find it or if they even kept food with them, especially while living in a forest that was quite obviously populated with some form of deer or rabbit, but she refused to let that deter her.

She pushed the tarpaulin aside and ducked out into the night. The laughter and chattering was coming from deep within the camp, yet still close enough to make her feel jittery. She couldn't risk anybody seeing her, not unless she wanted to wound her pride by asking somebody for help. She was a Princess, an independent young woman. She need not rely on anyone but herself. Or, at least, that's what she liked to think.

The moon cast an almost ethereal glow on the camp, lighting her way as she cautiously slipped over to one of the tents directly opposite her own. The tarp was pulled open and inside the belongings of an unidentified person were scattered all over the place in an unorganized mess. A bed roll was laid out to one side, an unlit paraffin oil lamp set beside it along with several rolls of parchments and personal items. There was no sign of food, apart from a small cluster of crumbs littering one of the documents. Disheartened, Naminé withdrew.

She crept towards the next tent, warily glancing around in case somebody tried to sneak up on her. Like before, the tarpaulin was tied back. She knew immediately who the tent belonged to and took a step back, guilt washing over her in waves. Several items of clothing were sat in an upturned box, much too small to belong to any of the men. A pretty emerald gem on a chain she had once seen Porom wearing around her neck was hanging from a small, handmade stand along with several ribbons. In the corner, next to the bed, was a small plate of cheeses and bread, as if waiting to be eaten by the hungry Princess.

Reluctantly, Naminé withdrew for a second time. She couldn't steal from Porom, even if it was only food. The woman had been nothing but kind to her and how did she repay her? By being difficult, snobby and rude. Of course, she would never admit this to anybody, but she felt genuine gratitude towards the woman. She had tried her best to make her feel welcomed, to feel like less of a prisoner.

But that didn't change anything. Naminé was _still_ their prisoner and as such, she would never be welcomed. As soon as they were through with her, they would dump her at the first chance they'd get, maybe even kill her. She could trust only in herself. Her confrontation with Roxas had opened her eyes to this.

And so, with her mind firmly set, she turned around to head back to her own tent, only to come face to face with the very woman she had considered stealing from.

"Naminé?" Porom asked, clearly concerned. "What are you doing?"

Unable to stop herself, she blurted, "I'm hungry. I was looking for some food." She regretted saying it as soon as the words left her mouth. She was opening herself up for pity and giving them fuel to use against her.

As she suspected, Porom's expression softened and a smile appeared on her face. "Why didn't you say so earlier? We've got some left overs if you'd like?" She gestured towards the centre of the camp. "You can come and sit with us."

Naminé shook her head. "I can't. I...appreciate your offer, but I wish to return to my tent."

"Nonsense." Porom declared with a huff, her hands settling on her hips in what Naminé figured to be a determined stance. "You shouldn't feel obligated to stay in your tent." The woman shot her a wink partnered with a smile. "We're a nice bunch really."

Adamant, the Princess shook her head again, flashbacks of her confrontation with Roxas still at the front of her mind. To come face to face with him again so soon would be simply embarrassing. "I can't."

The young woman scowled. "I'm not taking no for an answer. You need to eat." Her gentle expression returned. "You can't let yourself waste away. If you don't want any left overs, I'm sure I can find something to fix you up until tomorrow."

Realising arguing with her was futile, Naminé allowed Porom to lead her towards the circle of logs she had seen Zexion sitting on earlier. She stayed close by Porom's side, forcing her body language to give off an aloof vibe in the hope that nobody would even pass her a second glance.

As they neared the fire, Naminé felt her bravado falter. She slowed to a halt, her stomach twisting horribly. She didn't know what would be worse — having to face Roxas, or to sit so near to a fire.

Porom looked back at her, her eyebrows furrowing with confusion. She followed the girl's line of sight and sighed, wrongly assuming her trepidation to equate to Roxas' appearance. "Don't worry, he won't say anything." A jovial grin appeared on her face. "He'll have to go through me first, how's that?"

The Princess scowled automatically, her fear of the fire momentarily forgotten. She did not require anybody to look out for her and yet... She appreciated Porom's offer. Perhaps if she focused on her anger towards the young man, she could ignore the thought of being stuck so close to a potential hazard. A curt nod was all the young woman needed to begin leading her forwards again, helping her over one of the logs and showing her to a vacant spot. She flinched when the fire seemed to roar and crackle, embers darting up into the night sky, curling her hands into fists as she felt the mere heat of the flames reaching her face.

The whole while, Naminé purposefully avoided even looking in Roxas' direction and instead glanced around the faintly familiar faces before her. Of course, she recognised Axel immediately, who was seated a few people down from her, beside Palom. He flashed a grin and called out to her. "Nice of you to join us, Princess."

Startled by his genuine greeting, she inclined her head slightly, offering him an awkward smile in return as Porom scurried over with food piled up high on a plate, her expression joyous.

And for the first time in a long time, Naminé could almost say that she felt welcomed, and by her kidnappers, no less.

**····» **₪** «····**

Roxas had been pondering over the Princess for quite some time now, after his stinging cheek and bruised ego had recovered enough for his anger to simmer down. She was unlike any Princess he had ever met; her entire presence baffled him and to make matters worse, she had struck him. In hindsight, he realised that he couldn't quite blame the girl for hitting him, but at the time he had been quite furious. Admittedly, he had been nothing but cruel to her, but she was also ridiculously infuriating in return, so it was hard for him to reach a stable ground regarding his feelings towards the girl.

He only figured that the sooner they found Terra, wherever he may be, the sooner they could send the delightful girl on her way and out of his hair for the rest of his life. Her attitude only reinforced his hatred towards Xehanort and snobby royals in general.

Absently, Roxas reached up to rub the cheek where she had struck him. He couldn't understand why he hadn't stopped her — he'd seen it coming a mile off, but for some reason, he had held back and let her do as she pleased. Perhaps it was for the fact that the last time he had gone anywhere near her wrists, she had panicked, like a trapped animal. He hated seeing anyone like that, no matter who they were. It brought back memories of that awful night when he had witnessed so much death and destruction.

He turned his gaze towards the Princess seated across from him, separated only by the fire and the few meters between them. The girl was holding onto the plate Porom had shoved under her nose some time ago, but she had hardly made a dent into the mound of food piled high upon it. Every now and again, he would notice her flinch slightly and recoil, subtly leaning as far back as she could manage without losing her balance.

He frowned, watching her strained expression with a deep scrutiny. She was trying to listen to an intense conversation going on between Axel and Luxord, who had gallantly introduced himself soon after she had received her meal. Luxord seemed to have taken a liking to her, offering to show her his card tricks which eventually sparked an argument between him and Axel, who called him a cheater regarding that one time he had lost a lot of money to the gambler and Palom.

Roxas wasn't particularly interested in the argument; he had focused his attention solely on the Princess, intent on figuring the girl out. She was hiding something very dark indeed. Her reaction to his words had proved as much. And then there was the earlier incident with her wrists and how badly she had panicked when he had moved to look at them. There was a link somehow, to Xehanort and her secrets, but he couldn't quite connect the dots. The longer he stared at her, the more elaborate the puzzle became.

He was startled out of his thoughts when Riku sat down beside him with a heavy thump. His hand was healing well thanks to Palom and Porom, but they had still urged him to wear it in a splint until the bones had fully mended. This was expected to occur within the next two to three days, thanks to the accelerated healing powers the twins possessed.

Roxas glanced over at the young man and sighed, feeling regretful over his previous harsh actions. "Riku... I'm sorry about your hand. I did not mean to hurt you." He looked away once more as the man remained silent and continued, "I was rash, and angry. I reacted without thinking. It's no excuse, I know, but I sincerely apologise."

"I know. I didn't come over to complain." Riku responded in his usual level-headed manner. Quite often, the man was indeed very calm, rarely allowing his anger to rear its ugly head unless it was anything concerning Terra. The same went for Terra himself, who had become increasingly protective of his younger brother following their desertion of their father's Realm. "I came to ask for your permission to look for Terra tomorrow."

"By yourself?" Roxas asked sharply, once again turning his gaze on the silver haired man beside him. He was wary to let Riku out of his sight, or any of his men for that matter. After attacking Xehanort so directly, it would be wise for them all to keep a low profile and stay as far away from the edge of Xehanort's Realm as possible. Trying to rationalise with the young man, he continued, "Terra knows what to do if separated from us. He'll be fine."

Riku bristled, his good hand curling into a fist. "He was supposed to be 'fine' when accepting this mission. It was easy, fool proof. It didn't turn out so well, did it?"

The blond exhaled slowly, realising Riku's words to be true, no matter how infuriating that was. He had no choice but to let Riku do as he pleased, unless he wanted the man to go behind his back and do it anyway. "No, you're right. Tomorrow, you can take Palom with you. Search for no more than a day." He made his point by shooting the young man a glare. "If you don't find anything regarding his whereabouts by this point then we must assume that he's making his way to us."

Riku seemed to relax, "Thank you. I wouldn't usually make such a fuss, as you know, he's just—"

"All you've got left. I understand." Roxas nodded, smiling faintly, staring into the flames by his feet. Tipping his head towards the man beside him, he questioned, "When will you leave?"

"We'll wait until mid-morning before leaving, to give him a head start." Riku's lips twitched into a thin smile at this. It soon dropped, his eyes turning skyward. "Provided he reached the border, we should be able to find him alright." He looked over at his commander and nodded once before leaving to relay the information to Palom.

The blond continued to stare into the flames by his feet, his smile falling. "I envy you." He muttered. At least Riku knew his brother was alive and making his way to him. Roxas neither knew what had happened to his brother or if he was even alive. He'd searched for him soon after becoming leader of Organization XIII, but had been unable to uncover any evidence of his brother's whereabouts, or his well-being. He'd soon given him up for dead and allowed his hatred towards Xehanort to be his driving force to keep him going.

It had worked for a while, but now he simply missed his brother's antics, the friendly jokes, the secretive whispers and the sneaking out into the forest to gather fresh berries. He missed the small, meaningless moments; the smiles, the shared looks and the laughter... His brother had meant everything to him, just like Terra meant everything to Riku.

When he looked up again, he found the Princess' eyes across the fire. For a moment, they stared at one another, before the girl looked away, her eyes dark with hurt and perhaps embarrassment. She ate several more mouthfuls of her food before handing the plate over to Axel at his insistence and rising to her feet.

"Aw, leaving so soon?" Demyx called around a chicken leg he had nicked from Axel when he hadn't been looking. The musician watched the Princess with a strange pout, pleading silently with her, which honestly baffled him. Were his men already so fond of the girl? Had she bewitched them?

The Princess nodded curtly, offering him not a word before nodding again to the rest of the camp, excluding obviously himself and Larxene who had been shooting her daggers the whole evening. She then stepped over the log she had been sat upon, murmured a goodnight to Porom who chirped something enthusiastic in reply, before disappearing off into the camp.

After a moment of indecision on his part, Roxas followed her, slipping away unnoticed by all except Saïx.

Roxas caught up to the Princess easily, finding that she was taking her time in returning to her tent, often pausing to glance up at the starry sky above with such innocent wonder that it forced him to add yet another layer to the puzzle that was the daughter of such a dreadful man.

"Princess," He called gruffly, successfully stopping her in her tracks. She slowly turned towards him, the wondrous expression he had seen on her face moments ago replaced with anger. Could it be that she hated him? He did not ponder on it. "I wish to—"

"—Mock my heritage some more?" She cut in brusquely, her words sharp. "I honestly believe you have said enough to me today and I won't stand for anymore." She paused for a breath, her spine straightening. "What will it take for you to see that I am clearly not what you so adamantly believe me to be?"

Her question caught him off guard. In all honesty, he was beginning to come to the conclusion that she wasn't everything he believed her to be. She had spirit, a remarkable fire which wasn't necessarily a bad thing. That and she hadn't really done anything to warrant such treatment from him, aside from irritating him with her awful attitude and poor manners. It hadn't occurred to him until now that he intended to apologise for his rude words earlier. He had never meant to hurt her so deeply, never mind the way she acted.

"I have no intentions of...saying such things to you." He chose his words carefully, knowing that he would have to take it slowly lest he completely lose his temper. "I wish to apologise. My anger towards you was unfounded."

The girl glared at him, disregarding his apology entirely. "What sort of game are you trying to play? Do you seriously believe that I will break so easily? Is that your aim?" She let out a humourless chuckle. The very sound sent icy chills down his spine. "I've suffered from worse cruelty before. I think I can easily withstand your attempts."

He wanted to be angry — really, he did — but found he couldn't. Her words were like another slap to the face. "Worse?" He questioned without meaning to.

Her anger immediately drained away, her face becoming an emotionless mask. She looked away, playing with the hem of her new shirt. She remained motionless for a moment, before turning on her heel to flee from him for a second time.

Without thinking, Roxas reached out and caught her wrist to stop her. She let out a quiet gasp of alarm and instantly wrenched her arm from his grasp. Realising his mistake, he froze, but she was already gone. He watched her run away, her hands clutched against her chest in a protective manner, her feet flying. She didn't once look back and Roxas knew he had failed completely in his spontaneous plan.

But he had learned something from the experience; another dimension had indeed been added to the puzzle. She had been subjected to cruelty before him. He wasn't quite sure what to do with such information, but it made his stomach churn.

Roxas slowly turned away from the fleeing Princess and headed towards his own tent, choosing to throw himself amongst his maps and battle strategies until the sun started to rise. Perhaps then he would be able to rid the strange girl from his mind.

When he arrived at his tent, Saïx was typically waiting for him, as he had half expected. His second in command was a lot smarter than some pinned him for and probably had a good idea about what was going on between him and their guest.

"Saïx, join me?" Roxas asked as he pushed past into his tent, heading straight for the desk, where his notes and parchment were still piled from earlier. However, instead of immediately immersing himself amongst the information spread out before him, he half turned around in his chair and spoke directly to the man hovering by one of his many tapestries. "I've allowed Riku to search for Terra tomorrow. I think it will be good for him."

"Yes, indeed." Saïx agreed, folding his arms leisurely behind his back. He glanced over at the blond, a wry smile spreading across his face. "But I do not believe this is what you brought me in here to talk about, now is it?"

He bristled, his fingers wrapping around the stem of the quill lying abandoned by the ink pot. "I—" He exhaled noisily and admitted with a grunt, "—no. It's about the Princess, of course. She's...hiding something."

"So it would seem." The scarred man murmured, keeping his hands pressed respectfully behind his back as he turned to his commander. "But is this really of any concern to you? You've made it perfectly clear that you want nothing to do with her."

"This is true. It does not concern me." Roxas muttered, leaning his chin into his upturned palm, a scowl reaching his features. "Call it curiosity."

Saïx carefully hid an amused smile. "I understand completely. She is indeed quite enigmatic." After a pause, he continued, "What do you intend to do about it?"

The blond stared down at his hands, his mind going blank. That was a thought. What did he intend to do? Why did he even care if the girl chose to keep secrets? They all did; he did too. But no matter how he tried to justify it, something kept niggling at the back of his mind. It was more than just mere curiosity. He felt drawn to the girl, drawn to something he couldn't quite understand and he was fairly certain that this wasn't a good thing.

"There's nothing I can do." He finally conceded with a sigh, rapping his fingertips against the wooden surface. He sat back in his chair, holding back another sigh. "I doubt she'll be with us for much longer anyway. We have no use for her now Terra is free."

His second in command remained strangely silent for a long while before clearing his throat. "I see. Well, I shall leave you to your thoughts, if that is all?"

Roxas jerked into an upright position, rounding on the man with an expression akin to despair crossing his features. "You have nothing else to say? Nothing at all?"

Saïx blinked slowly. "You appear to have made your decision." He stated calmly, holding his palms out. "You said it yourself; she won't be with us for much longer anyway." And with that, he turned away and moved to leave the tent, half expecting for Roxas to call after him and finding himself hardly surprised when he didn't.

Roxas in the meantime twirled the quill in his left hand, flicking it up into the air and catching it between thumb and forefinger with a bored sigh. His eyes drifted down to one of the many maps in his possession, wandering over the contour lines, elaborate plans and strategies he would soon have to deliver to Lightning and her army on the Eastern Front.

He wasn't so sure how things were going in the East; he could only assume that from Lightning's silence that she was still gathering what forces she could and readying what troops she had for the fight to come. They'd been plotting for years now, even before Roxas came into the fray, plotting to take down the tyrant King. Perhaps it was only now — now that they had the man power and the strength to do it that they were truly starting to realise that all of their years of planning might not go to waste after all. The rebellion could still happen — was happening — and there was every chance they could pull it off. It would be a bloody battle, and people were sure to get hurt, but Roxas had every bit of faith that they could do it.

Roxas leaned back, the maps and the Princess in his care long forgotten. He tipped his head back against his chair and stared wordlessly at the ceiling of his tent. Slowly, he closed his eyes. Sleep soon took him.

**····» **₪** «····**

Naminé flung herself onto the bed as soon as she entered the tent. She felt mocked, as though she had been made a fool out of. She should never have accepted Porom's offer. She had realised that all Roxas wanted to do was cause her pain and she frankly couldn't take much more of it. As if being subjected to torture by her Uncle wasn't bad enough — now a complete stranger was taking joy in watching her squirm.

She hated feeling helpless, unable to face her fears. Now, more than ever, she wished her parents were still alive to comfort her. She wished she could meet the boy who had saved her life, so she had someone who would understand, someone she could confide in. She wished Aqua were there with her, to talk about silly little nothings and irritate her. But they were all gone — they had all abandoned her.

Naminé curled her legs up beneath her, smashing her face into the pillow, reaching out to pull the blankets up around her. If she could manage more than a couple of hours sleep, she would be blessed. However, it soon became apparent that sleep wouldn't come. Her mind was too active, buzzing with random thoughts, the constant putrid smell of smoke on her clothes and in her hair almost too much for her to bear. She jolted upright, pulling the blanket up and around her, her knees bending close to her chest. Wrapping her arms wordlessly around them, she set her chin atop her knees and prepared herself for a long, restless night.

Her thoughts, as before, flitted to her captors, Roxas in particular, and how he had left earlier that day to find their missing man — Riku's brother — and failed. She had seen the silver haired man sitting beside Roxas earlier, surprised that he seemed to have forgiven the man who had probably fractured several bones in his hand. Was that what it meant to be loyal? To forgive someone even when they hurt you? Naminé couldn't imagine such a thing. The only loyalty she had ever displayed was to Aqua by not having her beheaded like she so often threatened to do. To her, that was loyalty.

She could only wonder what had happened to her servant after she had left — had she been captured, taken to the prison cells, tortured and mutilated or killed outright? Did she plead for her life, for mercy because of her friend? Or did she die quietly and with dignity? Knowing Aqua, it was quite possibly the former. She so often saw the servant fighting for her friend, and could imagine very vividly that Aqua would fight tooth and nail to do whatever she could to live so that the boy wouldn't have to suffer alone. Silly Aqua.

Why would someone pledge themselves to another so? Surely it only held them back, caused more harm than good? Your enemies would have the ultimate leverage over you — the person you care for most. They could wield you in any which way they pleased as they would always use the threat of having your most precious person killed hanging over your head if you dared to resist. To Naminé, that was no way to live. Or die for that matter. If she were to die, she would do it on her own terms. She wouldn't be forced into it over another person. She couldn't bring herself to care for someone like that, not if it would lead to both their deaths. No. Better to be alone than get others hurt.

With a sigh, Naminé loosened the hold on her knees and rocked forwards slightly. She was so alone. Even if it was better for herself and anyone else involved, she still felt lonely. Despite being free of Xehanort, she could still feel his presence in the way she went about things. She remembered how he would drive away any potential friend or ally, lock her in her room for days on end with next to no contact with other people, or how he would host extravagant parties and watch as she stood in a crowd of people, alone and afraid, unable to escape. And that had been the worst kind of torture — the kind that made you lose your mind, the kind where you were alone, with nobody and nothing for company but your own maddening thoughts.

Xehanort had poisoned her, twisted her soul until she finally shut down. She had given up all hope of ever escaping, of ever being rescued. After all, who would care for a broken, lonely little Princess? Or, at least, this is what she thought until she met Aqua and Porom and maybe even Demyx and Axel. People like that, the kind who worked hard to get through to you... Maybe they were worth it?

Deep down, hidden beneath all of the pain and hardship, Naminé wished to have someone like Aqua had Ven. Or like Porom had Palom, Roxas and his men... She wanted to know what it was like to belong.

She didn't know how or when it happened, but sometime during the night, after all of the laughter subsided, Naminé must have fell back among the covers as she soon fell asleep.

* * *

**A/N:** And that's a wrap! Finally Naminé's back on the scene, how I have missed her! This means I can really start to delve into her eventual relationship with Roxas, which should be interesting to develop.

I did say that I'd try to draw away from Aqua's arc, which I still fully intend to do, but I will be giving her, Ven, or Terra some scenes at the beginning/end of some chapters, just to hurry them along a bit. I've got some interesting plans for the three of them and Serah muahaha.

As for Vanitas... Well, he won't be appearing so much from now on if everything goes the way I've planned, which is a shame as I really like him. xD His character is also going to be quite fun to write the further into the story we get...

Before I leave, I encourage you guys to take a look at these _wonderful_ drawings my friend SummonerDagger88 has drawn of both Roxas and Naminé respectively The links can be found on my profile under the heading "fan art"! They're really amazing and I can't thank her enough for taking the time out to draw them in honour of this fic! cutekitty5597 has also created a banner for this fic, which can also be found on my bio! Check em out!

Oh! And as always, thank you ever so much for your reviews, favourites and follows! It means a lot. ^^

_~AusisWinds-13_


	7. Complications

**A/N: **Hello all! So... I took a break for all of a week. I was pretty angry during this time, especially after I found out that the person who hacked me was someone I used to trust and was very close to for a time. After a while of sulking I got bored, so I took a break from writing my novel and decided to delve back into this story for a time. And this is the result! I spent quite a lot of time rewriting the ending, adding bits in and taking bits out and I'm not completely satisfied, but I hope you all like it!

Before you get to the chapter, I want to say a MASSIVE thank you to all of you who either PM'd me, left kind reviews or just generally supported me through this pretty sh*tty time. I cannot express how overjoyed I was to see such kind messages, it really cheered me up when I felt down. So, this chapter is for all you _**wonderful**_ people who have been so patient and understanding. Thank you.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any Kingdom Hearts or Final Fantasy characters!

* * *

**Chapter Seven :: Complications**

High overhead, the beautiful sounds of birdsong rang out loud and clear across the valley. The harsh smell of smoke in the air was all that remained of a small fire built by a young man to keep him and his fellow companions warm through the night. Hidden in a small thicket of undergrowth and overhanging trees was a group of four young people, three of which were asleep, curled around the edge of a pit which had once contained the fire, while the fourth was leaning quietly against a tree, his eyes sharp and observant.

Terra's gaze drifted over the two sleeping forms of the former servants and the unconscious Serah lying less than a few feet from where he was sat. The pile of sticks and dried grass which had once been a fire was now nothing but cold soot and charred remains. He had meant to collect more firewood earlier in the night, but upon discovering that Aqua had fallen asleep beside her friend despite her stubborn vow not to, he decided that it was probably better to keep an eye on the three of them while they rested.

His hand tightened on the hilt of the sword gifted to him by Aqua, the blade touching the grass by the edge of the makeshift fire. So far, he had not needed to use the weapon, but it was sure to come in handy at some point. For a while now, he'd sensed the feeling that they were being watched or worse — followed. He'd scouted out the area before choosing a place to sleep and had discovered nothing but shadows, and yet the feeling hadn't subsided. Even now, he felt on edge, as though there was another presence nearby. He couldn't determine whether they meant them harm, or something more, but decided he was better off not knowing at all.

Terra felt his eyes pull towards the strikingly familiar blond lying across the fire from him, his head tilted towards Aqua. The fact that he looked identical to Roxas in every shape and form unnerved him slightly. He could only assume that his commander had a brother he had never spoken about. But then, if this were the case, why hadn't he mentioned a family before? Why not say something? True enough, Roxas was a secretive person, but even this was a pretty big secret to hide from them. It stood to reason, then, that Roxas had no idea that his identical twin was walking around without a care in the world.

The boy — Ven — was nothing like Roxas, Terra soon found, despite the striking resemblance. He was patient, cheerful and funny. He was down-to-earth, knew when to take things seriously and yet he still possessed an innocent outlook on life. He was insanely loyal to Aqua, trusted her immensely and was, all in all, a genuinely good person. Of course, he hadn't actually traded words with the outlaw himself as he seemed to take great care in avoiding him at all costs, but Terra was pretty good at observing and listening.

The boy hadn't complained, even when the outlaw began leading him through the thick, winding forests which stood on the border between Xehanort's lands and the Realm Between. He didn't let his annoyance show even as they began trekking up one of the larger hills which was littered with sharp, unforgiving rocks as well as bears and other dangerous animals. He didn't even moan when the pace became too much for him, or when he bloodied his hands on the rocks while scrambling up.

Instead, Ven kept quiet, remaining subdued, choosing to trust in him even when he had given him every reason not to. So far, the journey had been tough. They had travelled for at least five hours straight with only several minutes to have a drink from a nearby freshwater spring or to re-bandage Serah's head wound which they had discovered not long after leaving the citadel. They were constantly spurred onward by the ever-present fear that any one of Xehanort's men could be on their trail, hunting them down like animals.

It was for this that Ven had started to earn Terra's respect. Even when faced with danger, the boy did his best to remain strong, despite the fact that his hands shook with obvious fear and his entire body trembled whenever the snap of an unseen twig met their ears. Of course, whenever he flinched or looked uncomfortable, Aqua was always there to bring the smile back to his face.

As if the mere thought of her attracted her attention, Aqua suddenly shifted in her sleep, mumbling something incoherent. Her hand reached out, finding Ven's in the dirt beside her head. She grasped it tightly, like a life line, like she was trying to protect him even when deep in slumber.

Terra watched the entire movement with a slight smile. Aqua, he had quickly learned, cared immensely for the boy, but upon witnessing the way in which they acted around one another, he soon realised that their friendship went deeper than that. In effect, Aqua was his surrogate mother; his protector when all hope in the world seemed lost. She even acted like it, striving to look out for him even in times when she needed to look after herself. She was a strong willed and loving person, searching to find the best in people. She shared Ven's patience and kindness and had been quick to put all of her trust in him, which Terra knew just how dangerous this could be if wielded against her. If Xehanort had found out about how deeply she cared for the boy while living under his reign, he dreaded to think what he would have done to her. The man was malicious enough to pick on a defenceless boy and his devoted friend.

Another thing he had soon learned about Aqua was that she was incredibly stubborn. As soon as he had let slip Roxas' name while addressing Ven, she hadn't been able to let it go. She had hassled him, and badgered him and gone on about it until she was practically blue in the face. She wanted to know why he had called Ven Roxas, when it was obvious he was not the commander he had spoken of before. Unable to provide her with an answer that wouldn't be let slip to Ven in the process, he remained quiet, and claimed to have horribly mistaken him for his leader in a moment of confusion. It had taken a while, but she eventually gave in and accepted his claim.

The thing was he didn't want Ven to find out that he potentially had a twin — who was almost certainly his brother by this point — in such a manner. It would be better if he waited until he came face to face with Roxas himself. Only then would he understand. Only then would they all understand.

Terra lifted his head slightly as the first sun's rays began to peak over the vast rolling hills to the east. He waited for a moment, glancing back down at his three sleeping companions. It was time to get moving again, he knew it, but they had barely slept more than four hours. Perhaps it would be too soon for them?

Before his thoughts could process any further, the echoing sound of snapping sticks met his ears. He straightened immediately and leaped to his feet, the sword in his hands poised and ready for a fight.

The noise made when he scrambled away from the tree appeared to disturb the two sleeping servants, as they both sat up groggily, their eyes slanted against the morning light. Serah, too, pushed herself up onto her elbows, her eyes widening with fear. They glanced around, noticing Terra standing to attention and instantly seemed more alert. Ven was on his feet first, followed closely by Aqua and a swaying Serah. The two young women shuffled close together, Aqua putting herself as close to Ven as she could manage as the sound grew nearer.

"What is it?" Ven whispered, speaking directly to him for the first time since they had left the castle grounds.

Without answering, Terra peered through the thick branches and overgrown bushes, spying the oncoming figure at least a hundred feet from their camp. He couldn't see much, only the slight outline of a person, but even that seemed to be shrouded. Clutching the sword tightly, he silently pressed himself up against the tree, motioning for the three of them to duck down. They did as they were told, watching him with equally wide eyes.

He nodded encouragingly at them as the figure grew ever nearer, their steps seemingly erratic and disorderly, perhaps in an attempt to throw him off. His muscles tensed like coiled springs as he prepared himself to pounce upon the intruder, hefting the sword's familiar weight in his hands. This was what he was born for — the fight. He was a warrior; his father had known this ever since both he and Riku were small. Ever since he had been old enough to wield a sword, Terra had not once looked back. By the age of seventeen, he was the most formidable sword fighter in the entire Realm, surpassing even the greatest knights of the castle guard. And it was from this knowledge that he drew strength. No trial could be too great, no enemy too strong. He could overcome it. He had to, for their sake.

The figure paused uncertainly at the edge of their camp, just far enough away that they couldn't spy the old fire or the blankets which served as bed rolls. Terra leaned forwards ever so slightly, noticing instantly that the person was cloaked, their face hidden from view. From what he had observed, they were short, at least a head shorter than Aqua. The small person came closer to the tree he was standing behind, their head whipping from left to right, as if searching for something.

He waited for a moment longer, giving the person time to walk into his line of sight before leaping out and bringing the sword up to their neck. A feminine scream ripped out of their mouth and they came to an abrupt halt, a pair of delicate hands flying up to clutch at their bare throat.

Surprised at the noise, Terra lowered the sword slightly. He stared at their figure for a moment, before steeling his resolve. Xehanort could have sent anyone, anyone at all to catch them off guard. He needed to be prepared. In a deep, growling tone, he hissed, "You've been following us for a while now, haven't you?" When the figure nodded erratically, clearly frightened, Terra almost scoffed, lining the weapon back up against the base of their throat. "Alright. Slowly remove the hood and state your intentions."

With shaking hands, the person reached up and pushed back their hood. Terra took an immediate step back, the sword falling to his side, his eyes widening. "You!"

The very Princess he had been ordered to capture and the very Princess who had nearly gotten him killed was standing before him, a mixture of fear and fury clear in her azure gaze. She turned on him and glared upon seeing his face, her fear apparently abandoned, "You!"

"Xion?" Ven cried, shooting to his feet at the sound of the familiar voice. His face was a picture of shock, his boyish features slack. He crossed to her side and grasped her shoulders, ignoring her when she glared pointedly at his hands. "What are you doing here? Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

The Princess — Xion her name was — stared up at the boy, her anger melting away into frustration and perhaps relief. "You do not get to say all those lovely things and then _desert_ me so!" She all but wailed, dislodging his hands with a toss of her shoulders. "That was a _cruel_ thing to do!" She shook out her raven hair and turned away from him, one hand pressed to her cheek. "You were the only one who cared for me, so... I followed you. Tell me what else I was supposed to do?"

Aqua tucked Serah safely against a nearby tree and slowly straightened before coming to stand beside Terra, her brow creased with concern. "We have bigger things to be concerned with right now." She murmured thoughtfully, her gaze darting nervously towards the trees around them. "Xehanort is going to think we kidnapped Xion. He'll stop at nothing to ensure her return. And if it was so easy for her to follow us, imagine how easy it will be for trained men."

At this, Xion let out an unattractive snort, returning all attention back to her. "I highly doubt that he'll send out a patrol for me. He does not care for my well-being, any less than he did for Naminé's, which is the reason why you fools left, isn't it?" She glared at them each in turn. "You freed two prisoners and escaped...all for my pathetic cousin?"

Aqua frowned, looking like she wanted to say something in retaliation, but remained silent. She glanced over at Terra, who was still staring at the Princess, trying to determine how to get rid of her or whether she would pose a threat to their journey if he allowed her to stay.

It was bad enough that Serah was too weak to walk alone and that he had to be on constant lookout for everyone within his care, without having to protect a prissy Princess who had probably never stepped inside a forest before. She would be loud, fumbling and an overall liability to their safety. He wanted to reject her, to send her home and was on the verge of saying so, but when he caught sight of the way in which Ven looked at her, he made the mistake of pausing. Ven looked at her in the way Aqua looked at him, Terra realised. He considered the Princess to be his responsibility.

With a tired sigh, he straightened and sheathed the sword. "It would be wise if you went back. Not only will you be a liability for me, but you'll put us all in danger. Above all else, the safety of these people and my Organization is my priority." He noticed the distraught expression on Ven's face as soon as it formed there and cursed his own luck. As much as he wanted to reject her, he knew that Ven would never allow it and the Princess herself would surely disobey any of his orders. Resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose, he continued, "However, I know better than to expect you to turn tail and do as I ask. So, you can come with us." Terra took a step towards the Princess, towering above her like a giant, his gaze menacing. "But if you slow us down, cause us any trouble or endanger any one of these people, you'll be on your own. Is that clear?"

For her credit, Xion didn't flinch or show fear as he stood over her. In fact, her resolve only seemed to harden. She drew herself up as tall as she could manage and replied stonily, "I understand. It's not like I have a choice."

"Yes, you do!" Ven hissed, regaining the Princess' attention with a rough shake of her shoulders. "Go home, now, while you still can. You're foolish to have followed me." He shook his head sharply, his eyes pleading with her. "You don't belong out here!"

Xion regarded him coolly, her lips drawn into a thin line. "No. I don't." She admitted with a shrug, her face indifferent. "But I belong with you. As I said before — you are my servant. Where you go, I go."

The blond stood in front of her, silent and bewildered. He watched her, tipping his head to the side as if hoping to determine whether or not she was being genuine. He stayed still for a moment longer before throwing his arms around her and pulling the surprised girl into a tight embrace. "I think you're a fool. You're giving up your life there. Xehanort won't stop." His arms tightened around her, but she didn't resist or protest. "He will find you, regardless of whether or not he cares about you. You're his daughter."

"I know." Xion whispered, her voice muffled by Ven's shirt. "I know. But don't expect me to apologise. I won't."

He pulled back, frowning disapprovingly at her. "Sometimes I forget how stubborn you are."

Terra snorted and shook his head. "Alright. Now that everyone is awake and reacquainted, we should get going." He reached for Aqua's bag and swung it over his shoulder, despite the woman's protests. "The camp is at least half a day from here on foot. We'll need to be quick." At this, he tossed the Princess a look, noting with some impatience that she was wearing a highly impractical dress and flimsy pumps. "Do you have a change of clothes? Or something other than a dress?"

Xion scowled openly at him, crossing her arms over her chest. "Certainly not. I am a Princess, after all." She tossed her head arrogantly.

"Fine." Terra growled. He walked away from the Princess and her servant, meaning to scout ahead, when Aqua suddenly materialised beside him wearing a serene expression. He looked over at her, exasperated.

She merely smiled. "That was nice of you. You have no idea how much Xion means to him." She reached her hand up, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. "This...must be frustrating for you."

He lifted a questioning eyebrow at her, smiling wryly. He wasn't surprised that she had picked up on his annoyance. "In what way?"

"Well, it's obvious." Aqua stated, blinking slowly. "We're holding you back. You could be there by now, if it weren't for us slowing you down." She shrugged lightly and ducked her head. "You could have left us at any point, gone off on your own, but you haven't, even though the odds of being caught are a lot higher with us around."

His smile fell and he purposefully turned to glance around the area, saying nothing. When she elbowed him in the gut as a way of prompting him, he grunted. "I can't. I can't leave you here." He turned back around to face her, surprised to find the woman already so close to him. If she was unnerved by their sudden proximity, she didn't show it. "You put yourself in danger for me. You've left the one home you had for me. And then there's Serah and Ven." He sighed. "It was a no-brainer. I'll see this through."

Aqua was watching him with an odd look on her face. "Thank you. For...not abandoning us." She opened her mouth as if to say more, but seemed to think better of it. Instead, she mumbled, "I'll help Serah. She's almost healed, but it's better to be safe than sorry. Go ahead, we'll catch up."

And then she was gone, leaving Terra alone with his thoughts. He paced ahead, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword, his eyes studiously scanning the area. Aqua was right. They were holding him back. And now with the Princess, things were looking more difficult. The truth of the matter was he'd only stayed because of Aqua, and of course Serah. But mostly Aqua. She intrigued him. Ever since she had gone out of her way to save him, he'd become fascinated by her and he found that he wanted to protect her and Ven.

It was also because of Aqua that he was putting up with the Princess. If he had ordered her to leave, Ven would have followed and of course Aqua wouldn't have left him on his own. He knew that everyone would be safer with him anyway.

That was the truth. He was doing this for her.

**····» **₪** «····**

As the sun began to rise in the east, the outlaw camp slowly came to life with activity. Riku was already awake, making preparations for his mission, collecting several bags of food and three water skins, as well as medical supplies and extra clothing. Palom was idly practicing spells in front of the fire pit, dousing and relighting the flame in a continuous fashion. Zexion sat opposite him, already scrawling in his tattered leather bound book, casting the young sorcerer wary glances when the flames seemed to grow a little too large for comfort.

When Naminé emerged from her tent, feeling rather bedraggled and miserable following her fitful sleep the night before, she immediately found herself wandering towards Porom's tent, wiping at her bleary eyes with her dainty hands. She hovered by the entrance to Porom's personal space, a frown appearing on her face as she realised how pathetic she must look, seeking the presence of an outlaw because she wanted reassurance.

Before she had the chance to chide her behaviour and return to her own tent, the tarp flew back and Porom exited, her hands pulling her hair back into its usual high ponytail. Upon seeing the Princess standing there, she stopped and dropped her arms, a smile gracing her lips. "Naminé. Good morning, how are— _oh_, you look terrible." She clapped a hand to her mouth, her eyes widening. "I'm sorry, that was horrid of me. Didn't you get much rest last night?"

Naminé fidgeted, wondering why in the world she had even bothered. She played with her fraying sleeves, looking anywhere but at the young woman before her as she mumbled a quiet reply, "No, I found it hard to fall asleep."

"Oh... I suppose it being the first night you spent in a strange place it must have been hard to grow accustomed to everything." Porom conceded, looking oddly guilty. She reached for her staff which was propped up by the entrance to her tent and leaned against it, a thoughtful expression crossing her features. "Hmm... I can't cure a lack of sleep, but I know something that will help you feel a bit better." She raised an encouraging eyebrow at the Princess, a smile tugging at her lips.

When Naminé said nothing, frowning openly at the young woman, Porom chuckled warmly and pushed past the girl, heading deeper into the camp. "There's a hot spring not too far from here." She pointed her staff towards the North, glancing back to make sure the Princess was following before continuing, "You could go there and bathe for a while. It'll help you relax."

For a moment, Naminé was stunned at the prospect of a bath and getting clean. She hadn't realised until now just how much she truly craved a hot bath. Unable to help herself, a tiny, serene smile spread across her face. "A bath. Yes, that would be wonderful."

Porom clapped her hands together ecstatically. "Excellent!" She cried, beckoning for the girl to follow her as she scurried off towards one of the tents at the very back of the camp. She pushed the tarp aside and stepped inside. "This is our storage. We've got everything from clothes, to food, to bandages." She grabbed a towel and smiled warmly back at the bewildered girl. "I'll get you some soap and we'll be off!"

"Will you stay with me?" Naminé asked quietly, accepting the towel Porom thrust into her arms. A part of her realised that this could be the moment she had been waiting for — her daring escape — but another part of her just wanted to have this bath and relax for a while. She wasn't in a hurry to leave; she was sure that she would have plenty of openings should she get desperate and need to escape. There was another, much smaller part of her which was content with staying with the outlaws. She was essentially free, nobody expected anything of her and Xehanort wasn't there to hurt her. Of course, Roxas' presence was unfortunate, but she could easily ignore him if she chose to. Honestly, her life here hadn't been all that bad so far, especially with Porom's constant accommodating nature. She had been kinder to her than most people, aside from Aqua.

The young woman paused, her hand reaching out for a rather peculiar shaped bar of soap, her eyes large and round. "Well... I can if you like." She wrinkled her nose and rushed to add, "Just to keep watch. Not all outlaws out here are as nice as us." At this, she winked, grabbing the soap and dropping it on top of the folded towel. "Let's go shall we? Before Roxas makes a moody appearance."

Naminé giggled softly, partly hiding her face behind the towel, but Porom heard. The woman laughed with her and started chattering about her previous experiences while out in the forests, the daring adventures of her brother and the pranks he often pulled on Larxene and Axel for kicks, as well as Roxas' typically moody reactions. Naminé listened and soon found that the woman had quite a few amusing, adventurous tales to tell.

She could tell from the way in which she spoke about Roxas that she respected him greatly, but wasn't afraid to stand up to him if he did something she didn't agree with, which, she commented, happened quite often.

Naminé was so absorbed with Porom's wild stories that she didn't see Roxas standing in the entrance to his tent, watching the two of them with a strange expression.

**····» **₪** «····**

The spring, as Porom had promised, was indeed warm. So warm, in fact, it was just like having a bath back at home. The water trickled down from a dormant volcano lying to the North, according to Porom, hence the almost scorching, yet soothing temperature. Naminé washed the suds out of her hair and from her arms before sinking beneath the water for a few moments, relishing in the pleasant heat which seeped into her bones and muscles. When she resurfaced, she was feeling quite refreshed.

She had made sure that Porom didn't once look at her while she bathed, more so that her scars were not discovered rather than for the sake of her modesty. Of course, she obeyed and stood with her back to the girl the whole time, for which Naminé was thankful as the sight wasn't particularly pretty.

The scars on her arms were indeed a state, and looked even worse in the hot water, the puckered skin turning bright pink and inflamed, but Naminé could only imagine that the ones covering her back were worse. She had never really had to worry about the burns which littered her back as it was something she had always found really easy to cover up, but while she was exposed the way she currently was, Naminé felt almost self-conscious.

Sometimes she would amuse herself by imagining what it would be like if her parents were still alive and she didn't have the horrible burns littering her skin. She always imagined a blissful, happy and carefree life, surrounded by people who loved her. She imagined silly, superficial things like growing up and marrying a Prince from a neighbouring Kingdom, having children of her own and eventually grandchildren. Sometimes she would find herself craving for that kind of life so badly, wishing so feverishly, that she would almost lose herself within her imagination.

When she couldn't count on her imagination to brighten her bleak days, she would immerse herself within the universes created by others and recorded in thick, illustrated books. Xehanort, despite his stifling rules and destructive nature, had an expansive collection of books, most of which were fairy tales and elaborate romance novels. Naminé always figured that the library must have belonged to his wife as there was no way he imagined that he would condone owning such frivolous books. Naminé didn't mind, she still adored the library. That was the only thing she missed, unless one didn't count Aqua into that particular equation.

Naminé couldn't help but wonder if these outlaws possessed any books. She supposed she could ask Zexion, as he seemed like the type to horde all kinds of literature. With a content sigh, Naminé flipped onto her back and floated towards the bank, tilting her head back to peer up at Porom's head.

The young woman who was standing watch behind a boulder a few feet away had already laid out the towel on the rock for her, as well as her newly washed and magically dried clothing. For a moment, Naminé could pretend that she truly was a Princess living in the lap of luxury.

Reluctantly, the girl stood and waded over to the towel before drying herself off and stepping out onto the grassy bank. She quickly stepped into her pants, pulled on her trousers and slipped the tunic over her head, relieved to be hiding her body once again beneath the baggy clothing. Naminé sat down on the boulder and dried off her feet next before grabbing a hold of the boots which, after Porom had done goodness knows what to them, looked much more attractive than before her bath. She gladly placed her feet into them and laced them up with deft fingers.

Naminé glanced over her shoulder at Porom and called almost teasingly, "You may turn around, you know. I am covered."

But Porom didn't move. She remained rooted to the spot, her staff rising slightly into a defensive position. The girl immediately froze, her hands clinging rigidly to her wet hair. "Naminé..." The woman whispered, her voice hard. "When I tell you to, run back to the camp and tell the others we have company."

The Princess felt a cold shiver rush down her spine. She stood rather suddenly, turning her gaze nervously to the trees surrounding them. The shadows in the distance seemed to dance mockingly, silently threatening. "Company?" She replied quietly, taking a step towards the young woman. "But...I do not see anyone."

"That doesn't change the fact that they are there. And they're here for you." Porom's right leg slid back and she lowered herself into a better position, unconsciously placing herself between the young girl and the clump of trees directly ahead of her. She glanced back at Naminé and smiled encouragingly. "You'll be alright. Just run as fast as you can and don't stop. Roxas will help you."

Naminé's mouth felt dry. Her fingernails dug into her palms and her breathing hitched. "But what about you?" She whispered softly in response, her eyes wide. Despite everything, she could not quite bring herself to leave behind the one person who had showed her kindness throughout her ordeal. She knew she shouldn't be so fond of the woman, but she was. She didn't deserve this, not because of her.

"I'll be right behind you." Porom piped brightly. It was a lie. Naminé had heard enough of them to know when someone was lying to her. But before she had the chance to call her out on her bluff, Porom snapped her staff up and a beam of light shot out of the tip. There was a loud cry and a thump. The sound of swiftly approaching footfalls filled the silence. The young woman turned to Naminé and hissed, "Go! Go now! I'll hold them off!"

The young woman immediately whipped back around and swiped her staff at the air just as a cloaked man ran into the clearing. This time, vines shot out from the tip and bound the man's legs, bringing him tumbling to the ground.

The Princess spared the outlaw one last glance before taking off back the way they had come, forcing herself to run as fast as she had ever ran before. Behind her, she heard several more shouts and cries as several more men fell, the tell-tale crackle of magic fizzing through the air. When the sound of whinnying caught her attention, Naminé almost halted. And then Porom called out to her and she forced herself to carry on blindly, her heart hammering inside her rib cage as the ever nearing noise of thundering hooves closed in on her location.

It was then that she began to panic, for both herself and Porom. The girl let out the loudest scream she could muster, knowing that it would alert her follower, but also knowing that the outlaws would surely hear her too. She could only pray that the bandits found her first, and not the man chasing her.

Unfortunately, before she could comprehend what we happening, a pair of strong arms wrapped around her waist and hoisted her off the ground, tossing her like a sack of potatoes over the front of a saddle. Now her feet no longer touched the ground, Naminé's yells increased and she started flailing, kicking and slapping at the arms of the man holding her firmly against the saddle. Her breathing hitched and a strangled sob slipped past her lips, unbidden.

She twisted around in an attempt to see her attacker, but her head was forced down by a burly hand, her face pressed into the leather, silencing her cries. The horse was steered towards the South — back towards Xehanort's Realm, the place she never wanted to go back to — when it happened.

There was a loud whooshing sound and the rider suddenly slumped forward before falling from his seat altogether, almost pulling Naminé underneath the trampling hooves of the now rampant horse. She let out a scream and tried to cling to the side of the saddle but her hands were slick with sweat and failed to find a purchase on the tough leather. Tears fell freely now as she scrambled and clawed at the leather.

But before she fell from the horse, something miraculous happened. All Naminé had time to register was the vague form of a person as they ran alongside the rampaging creature, reaching out for the pommel. In a surge of speed, they darted forwards, their hand wrapping firmly around the pommel. They then swung themselves up into the saddle, one arm shooting out to loop around her waist and the other pulling on the reins to halt the horse. They came to a shuddering stop, the horse panting heavily beneath them.

With wobbly arms, Naminé pushed herself up, twisting around to face her rescuer, figuring it to be either Axel or maybe Saïx. However, when she saw Roxas sitting there, his face stern with an underlying touch of concern, she felt her whole body shake and shudder with a mixture of overwhelming fear and exhaustion. She sucked in a deep, trembling breath and, without knowing quite what she was doing — she had just experienced a rather frighteningly close brush with death after all — she threw herself at the young man, her hands clutching at the front of his tunic.

She felt him stiffen beneath her fists, his arm flying away from her waist and his body leaning back slightly, but she didn't care. Her thoughts were in complete disarray. She knew this was the very man who had insulted her and then tried to apologise to her and who had now saved her life, but Naminé found that she was too frightened to even care. He was the only thing she was sure of right now.

With an unpleasant jolt, she remembered the young woman who had fought off those men for her to escape, and somehow managed to choke out her name, her fingers tightening on the material bunched into her fists.

Roxas, realising what she meant, barked several orders to the men who must have been crowding round by now to find Porom. As much as she wanted to, Naminé found she still could not move, frozen in shock against his chest. And yet, he did not try to push her away, even though he had made his mutual distaste for her quite evident. Slowly, but surely, he placed an awkward hand against her quivering back, moving it back and forth in a soothing motion. "It's alright, Princess." He murmured haltingly, his voice gruff. "You're alright."

Naminé wasn't sure how long they stayed like that, but Roxas finally removed his hand from her back after some time and took up the reins once more. He began leading the horse back to their camp while the Princess continued to cower against his chest, her shaking slowly subsiding. Once or twice, his chin would brush against the top of her head and for some reason, the girl found it almost reassuring; a reminder that he was there and that she was safe. He had saved her.

**····» **₪** «····**

The girl was frighteningly silent from where she was bundled against his chest, her hands holding tight fistfuls of his tunic. He knew he should have pushed her away, but after witnessing her terrified reaction, he found that he didn't have the heart and instead had tried to reassure her however he could. Despite everything that had happened in the last few minutes, he was still dwelling on that moment when she had thrown herself at him, trembling with fear.

He had been standing by the fire pit, conversing with Palom about his search with Riku, when he felt as though someone was watching them. Not long after, the terrified sound of the screaming Princess filled the air. A few moments later, ten outlaws were sprinting towards the sound, brandishing weapons of all kinds.

Roxas had been the one to notice the movement to their right. After barking out orders to the rest of his men, he had skidded to a halt. It had taken him all of two seconds to draw his bow and shoot down the man riding behind the Princess and another five to start sprinting towards the rampaging creature. The girl was in hysterics by this point, screaming, clawing and scrabbling at the saddle as she began slipping off the side.

In a surge of adrenalin, he had caught up to the horse, grabbed the pummel, swung up into the saddle and pulled the Princess back up into the seat. The rest was history. He had saved the girl and nothing else really mattered. Although why he had saved her, he didn't quite know himself. He had acted on pure instinct, like he would when protecting one of his own.

Porom had hopefully been found by her brother and the remainder of the soldiers either caught or killed in the scramble. He allowed himself a small, proud smile at the thought. They were an efficient team and it would take an equally formidable group of people to catch them off guard or beat them at their own game.

The Princess suddenly stiffened against him. Unintentionally, he tilted his face forward a little, allowing his chin to brush against the top of her bowed head. Almost immediately, he felt her relax again, a loud sigh whooshing past her lips.

Even as they came to a stop alongside the other horses tied securely to the tree branch which served as a post at the back of their camp, she was still pressed up against him, her head bowed against his chest. Saïx appeared out of nowhere, sword sheathed, his eyes fixed on the Princess' cowering form. Thankfully, her shivering had stopped.

He beckoned Saïx over with a wave of his hand before turning his attention to the girl in his arms. "Princess, I'm going to have to move you." Roxas muttered, his hands searching for her fingers which were balled up in the fabric of his tunic. He heard her whimper softly, but ignored the noise. "I'll pass you down to Saïx."

Her hands seemed to tighten their hold. As Saïx reached up to lift her down, his hands brushing against her waist as he did, she jerked away with a cry, shuffling even closer to him, if it were at all possible. Saïx immediately stepped back, his brow raised. "Sir, I believe you'll have to be the one to move her."

Roxas struggled to keep a lid on his temper, exhaling heavily as he stared down at the Princess. She was shuddering again, her fingers clawing at him. Slowly, so not to startle her, he began prying her fingers away and smoothing out her hands with his own. Once done, he dropped them to her lap and placed his hands on her waist, ready to hand her to Saïx. He nodded at his second in command and lifted her into his arms.

The scarred man accepted the poor girl and gently set her down. One of her hands clutched at his wrist for support, her head still bowed, while the other was pressed to her stomach.

In the meantime, Roxas swung down from the stolen horse and tied it to the branch. He turned towards Saïx, who was staring down at the girl with a worried expression. "She needs to lie down. She's in shock."

It was then that he really got a proper look at the young Princess. Her hair, still dying from her bath, hung around her face like a curtain. Her cheeks were pale and her eyes appeared much too large for her face. She glanced up and met his gaze with her wide eyes, blinking rapidly.

Roxas felt his stomach clench and forced his gaze down. That was more than the stare of a Princess spooked by an almost-kidnapping. The expression reminded him so much of himself and also of her words to him last night.

_"I've suffered from worse cruelty before."_

Just what had she endured she make her so afraid? He couldn't even begin to imagine what had caused her such pain.

For some reason — perhaps it was out of sympathy, or perhaps it was because, for a glimmer of a moment, he could relate to her hidden pain — he found himself reaching out to take her arm from Saïx. "I'll take her to her tent. Find the others and make sure Porom is alright."

Surprised, Saïx released the girl and stepped away as Roxas took his place, one hand cupping her elbow and steering her towards her tent. He watched after them, his golden eyes moving between the two in a calculating manner. Something had shifted within his commander, something which had made him sympathetic towards the girl. With a slight smile, Saïx turned away and went off in search of the others.

Roxas meanwhile, continued to lead the girl onwards, glancing over at her lifeless form every so often, waiting for some form of outburst, for something of the old Princess to shine through. He would have taken any of her insults over this ghostly silence, any day. However, when none came, he looked away and reached up to push back the tarp. He helped her inside and over to the mattress before forcing her to sit. As soon as she was supported by something other than himself, he tried to back away, only for her hand to shoot out and grab his tunic again. He froze, unable to breathe.

"You saved me, even though I have given you every reason to hate me." She whispered softly, her voice barely audible. She peered up at him, tipping her head to the side. "Is Porom alright?"

The young man shrugged lightly, unsure how to handle her appreciation for his actions or her apparent concern. Hadn't he described her as a walking disease at one point while conversing with Axel? Hadn't he claimed to despise the very earth she trod upon? Didn't he once say that she was nothing but a nuisance, a bastard child? Perhaps he was being too harsh. Perhaps there was a lot more to her than he had originally thought.

"Will you let me know?" The Princess continued, her fingers loosening on their hold. And then, almost like she was talking to herself, she muttered coldly, "This is all my fault. It always is. The fire… I wasn't strong enough to…" She looked away and suddenly rolled onto her side, putting her back to him before she could divulge in any more information. "Tell Porom I am sorry."

Roxas stared at the back of her head for a long time as her breathing steadied. What fire was she talking about? What hadn't she been strong enough to do?

The more he uncovered about her, the more questions he found himself asking. She was an enigma, an unsolvable puzzle. She showed absolute arrogance and sheer audacity and yet also seemed to possess concern and appreciation. Or was that just the shock talking?

With a lot to think about and a lot of things to clear up, Roxas turned away and slipped out into the camp where the others were beginning to return. Larxene was flicking her knives up into the air and catching them between her fingers, fresh blood staining the blade, while Marluxia walked beside her, his sword also reddened. Zexion and Demyx were next, followed closely by Saïx, a furious looking Palom and Porom who seemed to be bleeding heavily from her right arm. Riku, Luxord and Axel, he figured, were dealing with the bodies left behind.

Roxas strode towards them, worry and fury etching his features. Seeing Porom hurt like this was something he wasn't used to. When he reached the young woman, he placed a gentle hand on her good shoulder. "Porom, what happened?"

The young woman frowned up at him, her face only slightly scrunched with pain as her brother began to cast healing incantations upon her wound, muttering something insulting about her inability to fight under his breath. "We were ambushed. One of them was kind enough to mention that they were sent by Xehanort. He apparently ordered them to retrieve the girl and kill anyone who stood in their way." Porom hissed suddenly, shooting a glare at her brother. The boy didn't look at her, remaining silent.

The blond dropped his arms to his sides and curled his hands into fists to stop them from trembling. "Who was it that hurt you?" He asked coldly, his eyes darting towards the edge of camp where Axel could be seen, a body thrown carelessly over his shoulder, his expression guarded.

Palom was the one to respond, momentarily looking up from his task, his usually mirthful features dark. "I took care of him since Porom was too out of it to do anything about it." He shot his sister a pointed look, which she ignored. "He's dead. There are a few survivors; Riku should be bringing them back soon."

Roxas nodded approvingly at the boy, who immediately turned back to his sister's injury, which had now stopped bleeding and was almost fully healed. Turning to his second in command, Roxas spoke, "Saïx, how many casualties?"

Saïx tipped his head, silently counting the death toll in his head. Once he had a solid figure in mind, he replied slowly, "Only three. The one you shot, the one who hurt Porom and another who regrettably fought back. The others will be held as our prisoners." He met Roxas' gaze warily, his golden eyes conveying a hidden message which only he understood.

He sighed, rubbing at the bridge of his nose irritably. "We have been compromised. Palom, once you have finished, I'll need for you to gather everyone up. We'll need to move quickly." He jerked his head towards Saïx. "I can trust you to make sure that the Princess knows of our situation?"

"Is she safe?" Porom blurted suddenly, her arm forgotten. Her eyes were wide with worry at the mention of the girl she had fought to protect, showing an awfully large amount of loyalty to someone she barely knew.

Roxas kept his opinion to himself, knowing all too well what this kind of attachment would mean in the long run, relaying to her what had happened all the same. "She was almost captured, but I apprehended the man before any harm could come to her. She rests in her tent." His thoughts flickered back to the way she had expressed genuine worry for the young woman and frowned inwardly. "She asked for you. Perhaps you should see her after you have healed."

Porom seemed surprised by this information, but nodded eagerly in response as her brother began to usher her away, his low, usually insulting words hardly holding any real bite to them. Roxas watched them go, noting that Saïx's lingering presence beside him had gone. He glanced over his shoulder to see the man heading towards the Princess' tent, as per his request. He was glad that Saïx hadn't attempted to cajole him into speaking with the girl instead. He wanted to avoid her for the time being, at least until he had her figured out.

In the meantime, the outlaw walked silently over to where Axel, Luxord and Riku were bringing in the live prisoners. They were sufficiently bound and blindfolded, the three remaining men pushed roughly to their knees by their captors. Roxas found that he had no room in his heart for mercy. Not only had they tried to kidnap someone under his protection and wounded one of his own, but they had unintentionally forced the outlaws into having to find somewhere new to camp, meaning that it would be harder for Terra to catch up to them in the long run.

With these thoughts at the front of his mind, the young man crouched in front of the nearest captive, his eyes narrowed. "Who sent you?"

The man flinched, cowering away from him, his chin lowered against his chest. "K-King Xehanort." He stammered, his voice cracking with evident fear. "He...he wanted us to retrieve the Princess."

"Xehanort sends the likes of _you_ to handle this? Foolish men with such little experience?" He scoffed and straightened, pacing slowly in front of the three shuddering men who did not even speak a word against him. "One of you injured a good friend of mine. I have been told that he has been taken care of. Another tried to fight back, he is also dead. And a third tried to retrieve the Princess who is currently in my custody."

He stopped and turned to face the man he was now standing in front of. "I am a fair leader. I don't take pleasure in killing others unless I myself, or those close to me, are threatened." He drew his sword, watching closely as the men all flinched at the sound of metal grating against metal. "As such, no more blood shall be split today. I will have you three released. You may take your dead and go." He stabbed his sword into the ground directly by the man's knees and whispered harshly, "However, if we ever cross paths again I will not be so merciful." He motioned for his men to help the three to their feet and take them to the edge of their camp, along with their dead.

Luxord and Axel obliged, Riku remaining where he was for a moment. He met Roxas' eyes. "I won't leave to look for Terra. Not now. I know it's not safe for any of us to separate." He paused and looked away. "We need to leave, don't we?"

Roxas placed a hand on the man's shoulder, sensing his anguish over leaving his brother behind. "I'm sorry Riku. He'll catch up with us; we'll leave him signs like we always do. Once we have resettled you have my permission to take out a small scout party to look for him."

Riku said nothing and nodded, before moving to assist his fellow comrades, his expression steely with determination. The blond watched him go, before moving off back towards his own tent, his thoughts in turmoil. They would need to move quickly and find somewhere safer to camp. Xehanort's men had found them too easily. Perhaps someone had followed them? Or perhaps someone had been watching the Princess? Either way, there were not safe anymore. If they had to move deeper into Eraqus' Realm then so be it.

The King of the Realm Between had always been accommodating to their cause and was in fact allied to it. He was angered and grief stricken even to this day over the death of his brother and his family. Even if Xehanort was also his brother, any ties they once shared had been relinquished long ago. It was a well-known fact that Ansem had been standing in his way and that it would have been easy for Xehanort to orchestrate an assassination for his own brother. It was more than likely that he had been the one to order the fire, even if he was not the one to directly set it, which put the blame on him all the same. It wasn't like he had denied it either, which only increased suspicions.

Eraqus had soon declared war up in his older brother, demanding Ansem's Realm to be given to him. A furious and devastating battle which claimed many lives took place for many long years before Xehanort conceded and allowed his younger brother access. It was then Xehanort had struck, attacking the very heart of Eraqus' Realm, setting off a chain of events which had brought him to this very place where he now stood. It was Xehanort and his cruel ways which had set him on this path. He was the reason his parents were dead and his brother was gone. And it was because of that man that he now fought; for freedom and perhaps for revenge for those that he had lost.

Roxas went to stand by the old fire pit as Palom began gathering up his fellow outlaws, his sister nowhere to be seen. Assuming she had probably left her brother's side to visit the Princess, Roxas straightened his spine and turned to address his men. They were all there, all staring at him, waiting for him to speak. They all knew what was at stake; they had known when they had joined the Organization under Zack's command. Now they looked to him to lead them, to keep them safe.

"As you all know, our position here has been compromised." He began, his eyes drifting around their small group, his hand unconsciously gripping at the handle of his sword. "If we wish to remain safe, we'll have to move further North, deeper into Eraqus' Realm."

Marluxia took a step forward, his eyes cold. "Why should we? Those men only attacked us because of that girl." He waved a hand in the general direction of the Princess' tent. "Get rid of her. Send her back. We don't need her, she's outlived her purpose."

Larxene nodded savagely in agreement and a quiet murmur broke out amongst the group. Nobody but the short tempered woman seemed to share the same opinion as Marluxia, but Roxas could tell they were considering his words and he wanted to stamp out these concerns before they grew.

Roxas narrowed his eyes and replied stonily, "She stays. She may yet be useful to us. You know I wouldn't put any of you at risk unless I thought it remotely necessary." He glanced over to the right as a slight movement caught his eye and froze when he noticed the Princess standing at the very back of the group, her gaze fixed on him. He quickly looked away, unsure how to react to her intense stare. "We'll leave in a few hours; make sure you're all packed by then."

He nodded once at his men before swiftly heading back to his own tent, carefully avoiding the gaze of a certain young Princess.

**····» **₪** «····**

Naminé found that she couldn't quite take her eyes off him as he spoke to his group, his voice loud and commanding as he defended her from Marluxia's words. Both he and Larxene clearly wanted her gone, something which Naminé found she couldn't quite blame them for. She knew she should leave now, while she still had a chance. Not only would it be better for her, but it would also save them a lot of trouble.

It was for this reason that she murmured an excuse to Porom and moved to follow after the outlaw, meaning to state her case and ask to be released. She had no intentions of returning to Xehanort, but she had no desire to stay and put innocent people at risk.

Her walk to his tent was short. Once outside, she found that she didn't know what to say and spent a short while pacing back and forth in front of the tarp. The last time they had spoken like this, things hadn't ended well. And just now, when she had tried to catch his attention, he had ignored her. He was still as arrogant and insufferable as he had been before he rescued her, which was something she needed to remind herself of. Nothing had suddenly changed because he had saved her. Nothing. But perhaps he would listen to her plea when it involved the very people he would seemingly give his own life to protect.

Naminé felt her resolve return to her. She was a Princess, and as such was not easily daunted. She could do this. She could convince him of what was right.

She stepped forward and pushed aside the tarp, only to come face to face with Roxas' chest. He stood awkwardly in the opening, his hand outstretched towards the tent entrance. He jerked back when he saw her standing there, his mouth opening and closing sharply. He frowned down at her, purposefully not meeting her gaze before silently stepping aside to allow her access.

Naminé entered cautiously, glancing around his tent and taking in her surroundings properly. She wandered over to one of the large tapestries pinned to the walls and reached out to trace the patterns when the sound of Roxas clearing his throat brought her out of her trance. Startled, she whipped around to face him and squared her shoulders in what she hoped to be a display of determination.

He gave her a pointed look, folding his arms over his chest.

She bristled silently and tucked her hands self-consciously behind her back. "I think you should let me go." She muttered stonily, not looking directly at him. "I shouldn't come with you."

She watched him shift out of the corner of her eye, his arms dropping to land on his hips. "Why would I do that?" He demanded coolly.

"They were right." Naminé responded loudly, daring herself to look up at him, her expression dark. "Those men hurt Porom because I was here. And now you have to leave. Because of me. What use am I to you, anyway? If you have no plans to return me to Xehanort or use me as bait, then why keep me here?"

For a long time, Roxas said nothing, avoiding any eye contact. He straightened a little, tilting his head arrogantly. "We're fighting a war. Who knows when we may need leverage?"

Naminé felt her eyes narrow and her hands clench. "Is that all I am to you? Some pawn?" Boldly, she took a step forward and hissed, "And what if more men attack? What happens if one of your own dies because of me?"

Roxas closed the space between them, tipping his head down towards her, his face shadowed with anger. "You don't think I know the risk? Keeping you here puts all of our lives in danger!" He shook his head, visibly restraining himself. "I know. I know Xehanort won't stop. But this is a necessary risk. The death of one person can tip the balance and I don't plan on it being any of my men who pay the price."

"You fool." Naminé whispered harshly. Why wouldn't he listen? Why couldn't he realise that she was actually trying to help? "You're a fool! Don't you see? You are going to get them killed! Do you not care about what happens to them?"

He tensed, opening his mouth as though he wanted to say something, only to close it again, shutting his eyes in silent protest. He shook his head sharply and stepped away. "Get out. Just go."

She moved towards the exit, only to pause and glance back at him, her face unreadable. "I don't want anyone to get hurt." She murmured. "You might think that I am nothing more than a cold-hearted Princess, but the last thing I want is to see others injured because of me. I've seen first-hand what Xehanort can do. Given the chance, he'll kill you all and I doubt he'll care less what happens to me in the process, so long as he wipes you out."

She lingered for a moment longer, hoping he would say something else, hoping he would agree with her, but he remained silent. She sighed and, with nothing else to say, she left.

* * *

**A/N: **There are some parts about this chapter that I _adore_ and others I _detest._ But, overall, I'm pretty happy with the result, especially with that little scene in the middle... You know the one...

I'm really getting excited about this fic now. I know I keep saying it, but things are really gonna heat up in the next few chapters, especially since Xion has made her appearance, Xehanort's poor attempt to steal his niece back as failed and the outlaws will be moving to a whole new location. Introduction of new characters, hell yeah!

Before I leave, I have two things to say: today is _SummonerDagger88's_ birthday! HAPPY BIRTHDAY! I LOVE YOU GIRL! Also, she has created two new beautiful drawings of Aqua and Ventus, which you should totally check out. The links are on my profile!

And as always, I want to say a huge thank you for the reviews, favourites, follows and of course your immense support. Without _**any of you**_, I might have abandoned this...

_~AusisWinds-13_


	8. Declaration

**A/N: **Hey guys! So...a later update than usual; I apologise for that, but I'm currently in the middle of a bunch of exams and my life is literally ruled by revision. I also apologise for any mistakes: it's late, I'm tired and I wanted to get this out ASAP, so if you see any typos or other errors let me know and I'll fix them right up!

A big shout out to all of you who have reviewed and also to _SummonerDagger88_ who has drawn two new profiles for Terra and Xion! Check out the links on my profile! Anyways, enjoy the chapter! I should hopefully be able to update sooner as my last exam is at the beginning of next month. ^^

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any Kingdom Hearts or Final Fantasy characters!

* * *

**Chapter 8 :: Declaration**

Xehanort let out a roar of anger and hurled another glass at the wall. The object was obliterated into tiny pieces with a satisfying smash, its contents staining the brickwork red.

His daughter was _gone_. Whether she had been taken in the fray or forced into leaving by that wretched, pathetic servant of hers, he did not know, nor particularly care. He had only discovered her disappearance when one of the servants reported that they had not been able to find her. It hadn't been hard to put two and two together. He had snapped the man's neck with a flick of his wrist simply because he could and had taken to destroying everything in his path.

His daughter, one of his valued possessions, had been taken from right under his nose. He'd had many plans for that useless wretch of a child, and that bratty daughter of his brother, too. His plans were now in tatters. All of the years of gathering the dark power which rested deep within his heart — it could all come to an end if not handled properly.

No matter. Vanitas would track down the rebels and return his possessions to him, including the fair Aqua, whom he also had plans for. The Organization had been infiltrated earlier in the year, although his source refused to indulge of their whereabouts, as it would arouse too much suspicion amongst their fellow outlaw's and perhaps end in their death. Xehanort had found this to be amusing, as either way the mole would end up dead, whether by his hand or the hand of their fellow kin.

He had known that the Organization would come for his daughter and had made it so that the mole had directed the kidnappers towards the wrong tower, in an attempt to control the situation. He had sent out a group of soldiers after the two kidnappers and his niece before turning to Vanitas, strongly believing that all bases should be covered in his current situation.

It was salvageable at best. The rebels would never destroy him, of that he had made maliciously certain. But now, after his daughter's kidnapping, he was fuming with an uncontrollable rage that he had not felt since his brothers had betrayed him. He wanted to kill something.

All of a sudden, there was a knock at the door to his chamber. Xehanort reeled around, in the process of reaching for another glass to throw. He glanced down at his hand, eyes narrowing to slits before growly and barking, "Enter!"

The door was flung open and three men were thrown inside courtesy of Lexaeus and Dilan. The men quivered on the ground, staring wide eyed at the body of the servant from earlier that he had yet to dispose of.

The two guards nodded once at their King, Dilan being the one to speak up, "These are the men you sent out, my liege. We found them skulking at the border, bloody and bruised. They returned with the bodies of their allies."

Xehanort's anger had now reached boiling point. Not only had his daughter been taken, but the men he had entrusted to bring Naminé back to him had failed him. He supposed he shouldn't have been surprised. The Organization was led by a tenacious young man, who was not the type to be caught unaware, even with his cleverly placed mole attempting to throw them off kilter. He grabbed the nearest man by their throat and lifted them clean off the ground in an abnormal display of strength. "Is this true? You have failed me?" He hissed coldly, his amber eyes narrowing.

A sadistic smile appeared on his face as the man's eyes widened with fear and he tried to shake his head in denial. He was going to enjoy this.

The man choked and struggled in his grip, which only made him squeeze harder. The man's eyes bulged and rolled, his mouth hanging open as he desperately tried to claw at the iron-like hand cutting off his air supply. Xehanort suddenly clenched his fingers and the man promptly stopped writhing, his entire body going limp. Carelessly, the King threw the dead corpse at the feet of the other cowering men.

"I asked one thing of you." He whispered, his tone dark and deadly as he addressed the two remaining men. "I explicitly explained that she had to be brought back to me, or there would be extreme consequences!" His voice had risen to a shout. Out of nowhere, a gale force wind whipped up, the air crackling with electricity. Xehanort's anger was palpable, reflected clearly in the eyes of the men cowering at his feet. "You could not even achieve that!"

Xehanort lashed out, sending one of the men flying through the air and colliding into the wall, his bones smashing much like the glass he had thrown earlier. He fell to the floor, his lifeless eyes glazed over, frozen in everlasting fear.

The one man left alive trembled and whimpered, hands covering his ears as he sobbed, "Please, I beg you! We tried, your Excellency! We did! But the rebels — they were more prepared than we thought. They took down my kin without even blinking!"

"That's not good enough!" Xehanort snapped. He held up his hand and quickly clenched his fist. The man on the floor began screaming in pain, blood pouring from an invisible wound across his chest. His skin started to unravel, tearing away from his bones, like melting butter in a pan. Tortured, blood-curling screams filled the air, until all became still and silent again.

Sharp intakes of breath came from Dilan and Lexaeus. The room was a disaster. Blood was everywhere, the bodies of the servant and the three mercenaries lay prone on the marble floor, their necks and limbs twisted at gruesome angles, their eyes glassy. Xehanort stood at the centre, his arms raised, like he was in silent prayer.

Slowly, dangerously, he turned towards the two guards hovering hesitantly in the doorway. A dark smile broke across his face, "Tell the generals to make their move. It is time to crush what remains of the rebel resistance."

Dilan and Lexaeus shared a glance before nodding and bowing deeply, turning swiftly from the room.

Xehanort opened his eyes and turned serenely towards the window. He chuckled coldly, glaring out at the forest. "You may have managed to elude me once, old friend, but I shall eliminate you and this new leader you have chosen, once and for all." He raised his palm to the glass. "Once and for all."

The window shattered and the room echoed with Xehanort's cold laughter.

**····» **₪** «····**

After Aqua and Serah had both changed into more suitable clothes — they had offered Xion a pair of trousers and a tunic, but the girl had scoffed at the idea — they had set off into the wilderness. The small company of mismatched people had been walking for well over an hour now, with Xion's constant moans as background noise for their journey. Ven had given up trying to urge her to go back, finding her stubbornness to be too much to go up against. And so, he'd resigned to walking silently along at the back of the group, behind Xion to keep spurring her on when she tried to stop for a rest. The last thing he wanted was for the outlaw to carry on going without her.

He was still wary of the man who called himself Terra. Ven knew the man was allied against Xehanort's rule and wanted to bring an end to his reign, but that didn't stop him from being uncertain. He didn't trust him at all; they knew nothing about him, what his aims were and where he was even taking them. He'd tried to push these issues with Aqua, but the woman had brushed aside his concerns, telling him not to worry about it.

Now he thought about it, she had seemed very distant ever since they had left and was totally focused on finding the Princess, almost like she was hiding something. Ven didn't like it when Aqua hid things from him, especially given the situation they were now in. After what they had now done — helping condemned prisoners escape — they would never be able to set foot back within the Realm of Darkness. There was no going back for them now. Most likely, Xehanort would brand them as outlaws and kidnappers of his daughter and have them hunted down for a 'reasonable price'.

It made him bitter. In fact, anything to do with Xehanort made him bitter.

The man was the very reason his parents and brother had died, perished in that awful fire which had consumed half of the Realm of Light. Left with nothing and nowhere to turn, he had been forced to accept work and a home where he could find it, under the care of the very man who had destroyed his life. Soon after, he met Aqua, who made his days a little less bleak and filled him with a purpose again. She offered him friendship and unconsciously became a parental figure to him. Without her, he would probably still be an emotionless, half-dead shell of a boy with nothing worth living for.

And that was why he had followed her. She had done so much for him and he couldn't bear the thought of losing her. That, and without her, he couldn't imagine lasting all that long under Xehanort's reign. Perhaps that was also Xion's reasoning? She had never once before now given him the impression that she cared about him as more than her servant. The thought made him blush, but what if she had...feelings for him?

He stared at the back of Xion's head, his face blooming with colour as he watched her trudge through the thick forest, hiking her impractical dress up past her ankles for better movement capabilities, although her ridiculously uncomfortable shoes weren't helping any. She was still muttering and moaning to herself, cursing everything in her path, as well as firing some choice words at Terra himself, who was just out of sight.

Her mannerisms were ever the same. At least that hadn't changed.

It was in that moment that Terra came jogging back towards them, his sword sheathed. He stopped beside Aqua and Serah, waving towards Xion and Ven at the back, neither of who were in any hurry to catch up. And so, he waited. When they were within earshot, he spoke, sounding slightly impatient, "The camp isn't too far now." He pointed North. "It's less than a mile in that direction. Let's keep going."

Xion, whose face was flushed and clearly frustrated, looked back at Ven and arched a sullen eyebrow. "I believe I _wholly_ regret following you now, servant." She muttered dryly.

Ven resisted the urge to sigh, giving her a light, encouraging nudge as he passed her. He looked back at her, smiling ruefully, "I told you to stay behind."

"And I told you where you go, I go." Xion huffed, increasing her strides to catch up with him, her breath coming out in short, irritated puffs. "I had nothing there."

"You had your father." He mumbled. He was both thrilled and slightly unnerved to hear her state that so often and freely. He'd never realised that she had attached herself to him so. She'd never given off such an impression, what with her somewhat cold treatment of him and impassive nature. Despite her often aloof mannerisms, he found that he could never really compare her to her father. She was nothing like him, although she had the mentality to turn into him if not guided properly.

He was startled out of his thoughts when the Princess let out a derisive snort, rolling her eyes at him like one would a silly child. "Oh yes, that old coot _definitely_ cares about his emotionally unstable daughter." Her sarcasm slipped away and her eyes became wide and completely honest. "I had you. And you left."

"I-I still think you should have stayed." Ven said, stumbling foolishly over his words. He had always valued the Princess as a friend, but never could have considered that there was a chance it went both ways. After all, she was a Princess and he was nothing more than a farm boy turned servant. Quietly, he added, "This is no place for a Princess."

Xion looked across at him, scoffing scornfully, "I do believe that my dearest cousin is out here, isn't she?" She turned her nose up at him, pointedly looking away as she sniffed disdainfully. "I'm sure she's handling it just fine, so why can't I?"

"I'm sure she is. But you aren't Naminé." Ven responded evenly, raising his hands in a placating gesture when she whipped around to glare at him. He hated it when she compared herself to her cousin. She had always been so scornful and terribly jealous of Naminé, especially when she seemed to steal her father's attention and wear prettier dresses than her. Xion had become bitter and increasingly snotty over the years, considering her cousin her greatest rival. She always had to compete against her. He often spent hours despairing over her as she entered another tantrum over the silly rivalry she had conjured up in her head.

He cast a curious glance up towards Aqua. Whenever she spoke of Naminé, she had mentioned once before that the girl couldn't exactly stand her cousin or Xehanort for that matter. For some reason, he imagined that Naminé was no better off than the rest of them, just as much a prisoner and just as much as alone, not privileged like Xion so often claimed.

Xion's anger seemed to fade into contempt as she continued. "I suppose it is a good thing I'm not that dreadful girl." She replied haughtily with a toss of her head. "That frustrating little brat with her prissy, spoilt little mannerisms." She raised her chin slightly, jutting out her lower lip. "She always had things so much better than me."

Ven didn't respond, feeling his gaze pull back towards Aqua for a second time. She seemed to have picked up on the focus of their conversation, judging by the way her head was tilted and shoulders tensed, although in all fairness, Xion wasn't exactly attempting to be quiet about it.

The young girl was still ranting as he shook himself free of his thoughts, her expression darkening. "Father always pays her attention, like she's his daughter and not me. And even though she's scar—"

At this, Aqua made and excuse and left Serah's side, stopping directly in front of the Princess. And then, Ven saw that for the first time ever, she almost looked angry. "You don't know what she's been through." She said coolly, her voice hard as she came to the missing girl's defence. "I have had to watch over her as your father _tormented_ her. He doesn't care about her, she's just his property! He used his knowledge of her past _against_ her, made sure that nobody ever wanted to be in the same room as her, let alone speak to her. He manipulated her and those around her at every turn, scarred her mentally and made her life there so very miserable. And yet you claim that she had things easier than you?"

Xion stared up at the young woman, speechless. Her eyes were round, lips parted in surprise, probably because somebody had spoken out against her, told her she was wrong. Never had anybody done that to her, never had anyone defied her. Ven was almost afraid that the Princess would start yelling at Aqua, but she didn't. She seemed utterly shocked.

Neither moved nor said anything else. Ven glanced between them. He'd always known that Aqua was fond of Naminé, but upon hearing her passionate speech, he realised just how deeply she cared for the girl, despite the horrific rumours which surrounded her.

Naminé was feared and in many cases disliked amongst the servants of the castle. People were afraid to upset her, or suffer her sure-to-be wrath. Many called her a witch, speaking horrible things about her behind her back. And yet, the girl always seemed so alone, so vulnerable. He had seen her once, wandering down the hall, a book pressed under one arm, striding purposefully. Underneath the bravado, he saw the pain, the sheer loneliness bubbling beneath the surface, although he had quickly hidden in an alcove until she had passed. To hear that her suffering was all Xehanort's doing didn't surprise him in the least.

Slowly, Aqua bowed her head respectfully and took a step away from Xion. "I meant no offence. But you should try to see who she really is, like I do, before you make assumptions." She met Xion's gaze again, smiling sadly, "There is more to her than you know. Perhaps one day you'll understand."

And then Aqua was gone, leaving Xion looking severely humbled. The girl pressed her lips together in a tight line and slowly walked off, her skirts swishing around her ankles. Ven followed silently, keeping at a respectable distance, despite wanting to comfort the girl. He knew she would need time to think. Whether or not she would accept Aqua's words and try to make a change or continue scorning her cousin still remained to be seen, but he sincerely hoped it would be the former. Xion was a good person beneath it all; she just needed someone to show her the way.

Ven was still deep in thought when Terra called out to them, "The camp is just over this hill, in the valley. Not much further now at all." Ven's head snapped up and he saw Terra pointing towards their designated destination and felt a surge of relief. "Roxas probably already knows we're here, so we'll have to be quick." He then turned to beckon to his companions urgently.

Reluctantly, Ven trudged over to where Terra had gathered Aqua and Serah. The older man looked over at them each in turn, barring Serah, who must already have been accustomed to this 'Roxas' and the way in which he operated. Ven felt an uncharacteristic scowl creep across his lips. Whoever this 'Roxas' person was, he decided that he didn't like him already.

"You should all stick close to me." He informed seriously, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "Roxas isn't overly fond of newcomers, but if he knows you helped Serah and I get out of the citadel, I think he'll be more understanding."

He sighed and twisted his body around to face Xion, who was standing a little way off, glaring at the ground. "It would be best if you do not reveal that you are Xehanort's real daughter. He will only suspect your reasoning for coming here and it may put the other Princess at risk."

Xion made a face at this, but Aqua seemed to appreciate his consideration for Naminé — the young woman bobbed her head and clasped her hands together in front of her.

Ven wasn't happy about the situation in the slightest — he did not trust Terra at all, strongly believing that he was leading them into a trap — but he kept his opinions to himself. The man had still tried to kidnap Xion at the end of the day. They didn't know what these outlaws were planning or who they really were, only that they had Naminé. But Aqua trusted him. Almost too much. What on earth could have happened between them to warrant such trust? It made him wonder...

Terra nodded once in affirmation. "Alright then." His smile was a little grim as he declared firmly, "Let's go."

They walked onwards, as close together as they could get. Xion hovered by Ven's left elbow, her hand slightly extended to brush his, while Aqua and Serah stood by his right. Terra was only a foot or two ahead of them, his sharp eyes darting this way and that as they neared the top of the hill — and the valley beyond.

Ven didn't know what he was expecting — perhaps a dark, dank cave pressed into the hillside, teeming with filthy, foul-mouthed men armed to the teeth, ready to gut them where they stood. Or perhaps for men to suddenly fall from the trees around them, whooping and raving, swatting their swords around like a bunch of loons.

What he hadn't expected, however, was to find an utterly empty valley, the only evidence of it once housing occupants being the blackened earth where a fire must have once burned. He was mildly disappointed.

Terra tore away from them, scrambling down the hillside and into the clearing, whipping around wildly, as if expecting someone to jump out at him. "I don't understand." He called helplessly. "They were here. This is where we camped." He bent down to inspect the blackened ground, eyes searching. "It doesn't make—"

He broke off suddenly, his fingers lingering in the dirt. Aqua edged closer, reaching a hand out to touch his shoulder when he straightened abruptly. He looked around, assessing the area, before taking off into the undergrowth with an air of determination.

He disappeared into the bushes, much to their alarm, only to soon reappear, leading three horses behind him. "They were compromised." He grunted, holding a set of reins belonging to a beautiful dapple grey out to Aqua. "They've moved further up North and left us these horses, so we can catch up." He held out another set of reins to Ven, who hesitantly accepted them. Terra patted him on the shoulder fleetingly. "Roxas knew I wasn't alone in my escape, he knew to leave them for us. Although we'll have to share."

Xion sighed dramatically, draping herself across Ven's arm as she whined loudly, "Thank goodness, I cannot walk another step."

If Terra heard her — which he most likely did — he ignored her and turned to face the young blond. He nodded at the boy, "Ven, ride with the Princess." He looked over at the remaining two women, ignoring Xion's muffled noises of complaint muttered into Ven's shoulder. "Aqua and Serah—"

"I'll ride on my own." Serah burst in. When he opened his mouth to speak, she held up her hand. She had a determined look on her face, as if challenging Terra to speak out against her. "Don't worry, my head is fine." She grinned, grabbing the reins from his hands. "You don't need to mollycoddle me. I'm a Farron. We're tough."

Terra looked like he wanted to protest, but wisely said nothing, turning to face Aqua, who seemed stunned. "Alright..." The man hesitated, clearing his throat. "Aqua...with, um, me then?"

The young woman nodded, swiftly putting her back to him as she petted the horse. Ven arched an eyebrow at her as she looked up over the neck of her steed. But instead of meeting his gaze, Aqua was staring at something directly behind him, her eyes wide with fear. But by the time he looked, whatever she had been watching had disappeared and Aqua had swung up into the saddle behind Terra, her arms wrapped loosely around his waist.

Serah followed suit, mounting her own horse, while Xion complained at him, asking for a leg-up. Distracted, he helped the Princess into her seat and swung up in front of her, easily taking the reins. Then her hands snaked securely around his stomach, grabbing fistfuls of his tunic, her cheek pressed against his back and he allowed himself a small, tentative smile at the proximity.

And yet, as they started onwards, Ven didn't miss the fearful glance Aqua cast behind them. Her face was ghostly pale, eyes wide, darting all over the place as if searching for something.

He frowned and looked over his shoulder. But all he could see was an empty forest and shadows, nothing out of the ordinary. He turned back around, only half listening to the quiet rambling Xion mumbled into his shirt.

His mind was elsewhere, consumed by the horrified expression on Aqua's face. He'd known her a long time. She didn't scare easy and she was one of the bravest people he knew. So what on earth, he wondered, could have spooked her so badly?

**····» **₪** «····**

Luckily, her brother had been practicing his healing incantations. Porom's arm had now all but fully healed and she only felt the slightest of twinges every now and then whenever she jerked it too suddenly. Palom wasn't particularly protective, nor was he the type to so fiercely display his emotions, but once he witnessed her attack, he had sought after the man who had caused her harm with a vengeance.

He had been the first to arrive on the scene, to see her fighting with three different men at once. Her magic couldn't quite keep up with her and so, it was mostly her own fault that one of them got past her defences and managed to slash her arm up pretty badly. He had gone ballistic, immediately hurling several harsh spells at her attacker, sending him flying. He collided with a tree and snapped his neck. That had been the end of that.

The others were either killed for retaliating or captured and then Palom started yelling at her, calling her several obscene names that she would rather not repeat. Mostly, he called her out on her idiocy for attempting to tackle them all alone and insulted her rather awful fighting skills, but then they both knew that she was better suited to healing. Beneath the anger and rage, she knew that Palom had been relieved to see her alive and relatively unharmed, he just had a poor way of showing it.

Shortly after returning to camp, Roxas had announced their move. Inevitable, she had thought, especially since they had discovered the Princess so easily. It only stood to reason that the girl had been followed or they were being monitored. Either way, they were now on the road, trekking deeper into the Realm Between, home to the rebellion.

So far, Naminé had remained strangely silent as they made their way on horseback through the thick, winding forests. Porom had tried starting a conversation with her after she had returned from speaking with Roxas, but the Princess had politely requested to be left alone.

Porom knew, without a doubt, that their fearless leader was behind the girl's strange behaviour, but speaking with him alone about it was proving to be difficult to put it mildly. Saïx and Axel were never too far away and if Roxas saw Porom coming, he would quickly call to one of them, for no particular reason. He was avoiding her, of that she was certain, which only confirmed her suspicions that he indeed had something to do with it.

And so, she waited. Eventually they came to a stop to let the horses rest, giving everyone the opportunity to eat or stretch their legs. In Porom's case, it was the perfect time for her to essentially ambush her commander.

He was sat on a large rock not too far from the rest of them, facing the forest expanse before him while staring down at something in his hands. The trees around them were beginning to show the first signs of bloom, small brightly coloured flowers budding amongst the leaves. Grass had sprouted up through the earth, still hardened from the harsh winter they had suffered not months ago. The breeze which buffeted at their faces, but the air was a comfortable temperature for travelling for such a length of time.

She knew he didn't hear her approach. He seemed blissfully unaware, his body almost relaxed for a change, his head slightly tipped forward. She used his spaced-out state to her advantage, sliding quietly onto the rock beside him and settling herself comfortably before clearing her throat loudly.

Roxas jerked to his feet so fast, his movements were almost a blur, the item in his hand dropping to the ground. She leaned forward, using her staff to stop herself from falling from her perch, staring curiously down at the tin man painted in flaking red paint. Never before now had she seen that little toy before. Had he been hiding it from everyone?

His hands were halfway to his sword when he saw her sitting there, a serene expression on her face. He scowled openly at her, quickly bending down to retrieve the little metal man before sitting back down gingerly beside her, curling his fingers around the figurine and tucking it safely into his pocket.

"Porom. You startled me." He muttered, his cheeks slightly flushed with colour. She knew he hated being snuck up on so and it amused her to see him so startled. He shifted uncomfortably, avoiding her gaze, his brows furrowed. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I wanted to speak to you. That's all." She responded cheerfully, leaning forward into her staff, tipping her head to watch him, scrutinising his expression. "I've been meaning to speak to you all day, but I'm fairly certain you already knew that."

"Really? I honestly had no idea." Roxas feigned ignorance, carefully schooling his features so not to give anything away. His eyes darted to the left and his fingers started twitching, all of which were tell-tale signs. It was a poor lie and a lie that seriously irritated her.

With a disapproving frown, she rounded on him, "Cut it out. You've avoided me all morning." She felt her anger subside slightly at the sight of his steely, indignant expression. "I understand you're feeling vulnerable at the moment, what with having to move, but that's no excuse."

Porom watched as Roxas pinched the bridge of his nose, his resolve wavering. With a subtle slump of his shoulders, he heaved out a sigh, glancing suspiciously over at her, "What's this about? What's so important that you've been trying to attract my attention all day?"

She huffed. So he had been avoiding her. To actually know it somehow annoyed her even more. She tucked her staff under one of her arms and hopped to her feet, pacing slowly around the rock Roxas was still sat on, more to annoy him and partly to occupy herself. "What did you say to upset Naminé?" She asked slowly, curiously.

"I'm sorry?" His face was blank, confused.

Porom glanced over him with a strange expression and deadpanned, "The Princess. You know, the girl you had kidnapped?" When she saw the realisation in his face, her eyes narrowed and she gasped, "Wait a second; you didn't even know her name? Shame on you! That's just poor manners!"

Roxas glared haughtily at her, his spine straightening as he declared defensively, "I apologise, but between arguing with one another, there hasn't been much time to introduce ourselves to each other."

Roxas was many things; a fearless leader, strong fighter, brilliant strategist, but when it came to speaking with other people and getting to know them, he was rather awful. It wasn't like he lacked the confidence; he simply didn't know how to react or what to say. She knew what he was like. The young woman let out a sorrowful sigh. "I'd almost forgotten how poor your social skills are. So what did you say to her?" She tipped her head thoughtfully, remembering the girl's almost strained silence. "She hasn't spoken a word to me since we left."

He rested his elbows atop his knees and carded a hand through his messy hair, choosing his words carefully. "She requested my permission to leave. She believes she's endangering us all and does not wish to be responsible for any further attacks."

Porom couldn't hide the surprise, or sheer joy, which tore its way across her features. Naminé cared for their welfare. She was worried about people getting hurt. That had to count for something, right? She was changing. She was certainly different in comparison to the young woman she had met a mere few days ago. She smiled warmly at the thought, something fluttering pleasantly inside her chest.

Roxas immediately noticed her happy expression and suddenly seemed to shift his weight, looking down guiltily, pursing his lips as if remembering something unpleasant. "...And I told her that we are fighting a war and that we may need leverage." He met her gaze briefly, before looking away again. "Even if there is a risk, we can't afford to lose the one thing that may save our lives. The...needs of the many outweigh the few."

The young woman's smile faded into a scowl. Of course, that was such a typical thing for him to go and say. That was his problem; he only ever thought about his revenge on Xehanort and the war and never those around him. She wanted to smack him, or perhaps hit him with a spell. Something horrible, yet humiliating.

"You basically called her a pawn." She pointed out bluntly, shutting her eyes for a moment when his shoulders visibly tensed, his features hardening. She continued in a softer, more understanding tone, "Roxas... She tried to do a good thing, she tried to be helpful and you _threw_ it back in her face."

The tension coiled within him seemed to snap. His head flew up, his face contorted with barely continued rage. "I can't let her go, Porom! We can't lose the only leverage we have!" He cried, sounding extremely frustrated.

She understood his predicament, really, she did, but that was no excuse for treating her in such a manner. The girl was genuinely likable once someone looked beyond the hard exterior. She was damaged, sure, but worth getting to know, worth understanding. She might be the only thing that gave them the advantage in the war, but she was still human and as such deserved better treatment. Roxas knew this. He was just stubborn.

Gently, she tried to convey this, "I know, I _understand_ that, but you could have been nicer about it." With a half-smile, she added, "She's one of us now, like it or not. She became one of us when Axel and Larxene kidnapped her. You should consider apologising."

Roxas looked like he wanted to protest, but with one sharp glare from her he nodded reluctantly, his lips curling into a sour scowl. "Fine. I'll do as you have suggested. I may as well get this over with, after all." He said, rising calmly to his feet and twisting his head around in search of the elusive Princess. He sighed and shook his head, turning to leave.

Porom's head snapped up as he walked away from her, his strides loping and purposeful. She couldn't stop the secretive smile from forming on her face. Regardless of how he spoke about her, Roxas was clearly intrigued by the Princess. She'd noticed the way he'd stare after her, as if trying to figure out something particularly puzzling. Perhaps one day they would learn to tolerate each other, maybe even more.

"I know that look."

Porom flinched, turning towards the source of the voice. Her brother was leaning into his staff a few feet away, a sly grin of his own appearing on his lips. "You're up to something. I want in."

She rolled her eyes at him. "No way. You'd only end up causing more problems." She looked back towards Roxas, who was lingering now a mere few steps away from the Princess. Her smile grew. "Besides, I have no idea where things are going myself."

**····» **₪** «····**

So far, their journey had been quiet and fairly uneventful, punctuated by the odd peals of laughter from Axel, Palom and Demyx. Roxas, of course, led the way and with every slight turn of his head, Naminé felt the increasing urge to push him off his horse. They were riding through a thick expanse of forestry, heading further and further north, away from Xehanort and his poisonous Realm. But even with this knowledge, the girl was angry, positively livid in fact. And it all came down to one person — Roxas.

His reluctance to free her, to let her go, left her with a foul taste in her mouth. She had tried to act selflessly — a first for her — and yet he had failed to understand her goal and rebuffed her.

Although at the same time, beneath all of the anger she also felt a tiny sliver of relief. If he had accepted and forced her to leave, where would she have gone? Truly, without these people — despite with her misgivings regarding her situation and her distaste towards the leader — she would be dead. She wouldn't make it more than five miles alone in the forests, not with Xehanort's assassin's searching for her and her distinct lack of knowledge outside of the castle. She hated being vulnerable.

"Everything alright, Naminé?" A feminine voice asked, cutting through her thoughts.

Naminé jerked, glancing sharply over at the woman trotting alongside her, her staff tucked firmly under her seemingly healed arm. She felt an unfamiliar pang of guilt in her chest at the sight, even though the woman appeared to be in no pain. Really, it had been her fault that Porom had gotten hurt, which was something she would hold on to forever. Had she not been within their custody, they never would have been attacked.

The young woman beside her had been her constant companion so far, babbling on about one thing or another, offering her an escape from her own thoughts. She remained bubbly and light-hearted, easily filling the silence between them, not seeming to mind that Naminé didn't want to speak.

There would have been a time that Naminé was grateful for her presence, but at that moment, she just wanted to be alone. She wanted time to figure out how she was going to escape.

"Naminé?" Porom asked tentatively, leaning over to prod her with her staff following her lack of response. When the girl looked over at her, Porom tilted her head questioningly. "Something hasn't been quite right with you since we left. Do you want to talk about it? Has someone upset you?"

The glint in the young woman's kind eyes said it all — she knew something was up and she knew who was to blame but she wanted Naminé to open up to her, to admit it herself, to rely on another. But she couldn't do that. To rely on her would be admitting defeat. She couldn't attach herself.

The girl looked away. She'd already told Porom too much about herself — she knew of Xehanort's cruelty, she knew that she wasn't his daughter, either. There were very few secrets she had left and she would much prefer keeping them to herself. Porom almost knew more about her than Aqua did.

Naminé ducked her head, a strange feeling of sadness enveloping her chest. Aqua, silly Aqua. The woman was dead, she had to be. Of course, she was a smart woman, brilliant and brave to a fault — which was something she would never say aloud — but she could not imagine that she had escaped Xehanort's wrath. It was too foolish a hope.

Porom prodded her again. "Nam—"

She snapped.

"Would you let me be for a while?" She requested sharply in a strained voice, not quite meeting Porom's confused, yet intense stare, knowing what she would see there. Pity, encouragement, hope. She did not want to talk to her, not about him and certainly not about herself. She clenched her fists and lowered her head. "I...wish to be alone."

Porom said nothing to indicate her acceptance of this request, but immediately sped her horse up so that she now trotted ahead of the Princess, her pink pony tail swishing back and forth. Naminé watched her go, letting out a silent sigh of relief. She was thankful that she hadn't attempted to argue with her, or to wrestle it out of her. If she were to keep her distance, she would need to stop being so open and learn to keep Porom at arm's length. It would be better for the both of them.

She rode on alone in relative silence, staring robotically ahead as the leader of the infamous outlaws led them onwards, deeper into the wilderness, with no apparent destination in mind. Naminé's eyes flicked to rest on the back of Roxas' head. The longer she stared, the angrier she felt.

It was becoming clearer and clearer in her mind. Despite everything that had happened, despite the fact that she found she didn't quite hate the outlaws and despite the fact that it seemed these people were accepting her, she felt the increasing need to escape. It didn't matter where she went. It didn't matter, but until she left the mismatched group of criminals, she would never truly be free. It was for their sake too, as well as her own.

She idly wondered if Porom would help her, or if she would treat her like a prisoner like Roxas seemed to. Porom might have welcomed her into their group, but that did not mean that everybody else did, nor did it mean that she was any less a prisoner. Naminé was beginning to understand her role here. She would remain with them for as long as she had a purpose and once that purpose had been fulfilled, she dreaded to think what would happen to her.

Perhaps Roxas would have her killed. Perhaps he would choose to keep her as his personal prisoner. Perhaps he would sell her off. Perhaps he would drop her off at the next town and forget all about his ordeal with the pesky little Princess. One thing was for certain; it was unlikely to end well for her.

"We'll stop here for a while!"

Naminé scowled at the sound of his voice, but nevertheless she tugged lightly on her reins to halt her steed, as Porom had shown her. Awkwardly, she swung down from the saddle, only faltering slightly when her foot caught in the stirrup. Zexion had called her a "natural born rider" when he had trotted past earlier, even though she had fallen off twice. His kind comment had boosted her confidence somewhat.

She looked around, noting how the small band of people had already dismounted and were chatting amongst themselves, taking swigs from water skins and stretching their aching limbs. They all seemed so relaxed, content within each other's presence. Porom had disappeared, leaving her undeniably on her own, but then again, that had been what she had asked for, after all.

Naminé tied her horse to a nearby low branch and leaned against the trunk, staring off into the distance, an idle smile playing across her lips. The forest was massive, she had soon discovered, and it was just as beautiful as she could ever have imagined. None of the fairy tales she had immersed herself in as a young girl could have prepared her for this moment.

She had always yearned with a fierce passion to see such the world and it was only now, after being kidnapped, that her wishes had been granted. If she set aside her grievances over her situation, she could almost say that it was everything she had ever dreamt about and more. After spending years cooped up in a castle, she was almost free.

She was so lost within her own thoughts, that she didn't notice his approach until he spoke, "Princess..."

Naminé's head whipped around, her eyes narrowing. He stood no more than five feet away from her, watching her with an odd expression on his face. He did not appear as though he wanted to argue with her, but nevertheless, their last several encounters had all ended the same. "What do _you_ want?" She asked icily, straightening haughtily.

Roxas seemed uncertain as what to say, opening and closing his mouth for a moment, before seemingly finding the right words to say, "You asked for my permission to leave so that my men would be safe. And while it is true that without you we would be safer, I would be a fool to let you leave." He looked away and she felt her back stiffen as anger welled inside her chest. What was the point in repeating what had already been said unless his intent was to irritate her?

Suddenly, he continued on in a gruff voice, "I wanted to...thank you for your considerate thoughts. You may not believe it, but my men _do_ mean a lot to me and I would do _anything_ to protect them." Roxas inhaled sharply, still not meeting her suspicious gaze.

Her lips twisted into a grimace. "Is that all?" She asked tightly, glaring at his forehead when he finally glanced her way, finding that she could not quite meet his gaze either.

She watched him shake his head. "I also wanted to apologise for reacting the way I did, when all you ever thought about was the safety of my men." His brow furrowed and he muttered, "But I do not understand why..."

Naminé's hostility drained away and she felt confused. "Why...?"

Roxas' eyes locked on her own and she suddenly discovered that she was unable to breathe. "I do not understand why you seem to care about their lives. We are the reason you are here, taken from your home, unable to return." He tipped his head back, realisation dawning on his features. "You must hate us."

Naminé's confusion increased. She had always assumed that the feeling was mutual. She pulled her sleeves down over her hands, murmuring cautiously, "I do not resent any of you, not really, certainly not for taking me from that place, in the very least."

He didn't look convinced. "But it's your home." He prompted, as if that was the answer to everything. "Your father lives there. Don't you want to return to that?"

She could have laughed. The last thing she wanted was to go back, but she couldn't very well explain that to him. Carefully, she said, "Xehanort...he isn't the kindest of men, as I'm sure you're aware. My life there was difficult." She smiled coldly at the thought. Difficult was not how she would usually describe it, but he might start asking questions if she acted particularly bitter. The last thing she wanted was for him to figure out that she wasn't actually Xehanort's daughter. Goodness knows what he'd do with her then.

Slowly, Naminé continued, turning away from him and leaning back against the tree, "People feared me and avoided me. The only person who ever cared for me was my servant, but now I fear she is dead. Xehanort will probably have had her killed, upon discovering me missing."

She closed her eyes, wishing she didn't care so much for one servant, a servant she had threatened to dispose of on numerous occasions. Why now did she feel remorse for the way in which she treated Aqua? If anything, she should feel better, knowing the woman would never hassle her again, but honestly she only felt worse. Aqua had, after all, been her only companion.

"I should resent you for that." The girl admitted harshly. "She is most likely dead because you had your men kidnap me. But...I find I only hate him." She glanced over at Roxas, her expression neutral. "He is to blame."

He looked shocked by the revelation, maybe even a little enraged on her behalf, his deep blue eyes bright. His hand went to his pocket, closing around something unseen. "If it was not for him, I wouldn't be here." Roxas murmured softly, so quietly that Naminé had to lean forward to hear him properly. "He destroyed my village when he attacked Ansem's Realm. My parents died because of him." A wistful smile appeared on his lips. "That's why I fight. For them."

Naminé stared at him. The look on his face was so familiar. In that moment, he looked so much like the servant Aqua was— had been such good friends with. His guard was down, and underneath the hard exterior she could see a deep set pain, a grief so raw it made her heart ache.

"Is that how you became an outlaw? Because of Xehanort?" She asked curiously, watching his every move out of the corner of her eye.

For a moment, Roxas remained completely silent to the point where she found herself wondering if he was actually going to answer her when he suddenly spoke up. "Not exactly, no."

He stared at her, his expression strange, as if he was contemplating whether or not to elaborate on his vague answer. She returned his stare impassively, careful not to overstep the thin line which had been tentatively drawn between them ever since she first arrived at his camp. It was a line between polite toleration and complete loathing and yet, even after such a short amount of time together, they didn't seem able to stop themselves from pushing at these boundaries.

Naminé held her breath, her back ramrod straight as Roxas' shoulders sagged slightly. It seemed that he had made his decision. His eyes took on a faraway gleam, lips twisted with bitterness as he told his tale. "I was a young boy at the time, no more than seven years old, shortly after my family died. I had been working as a kitchen boy for a short while...but certain events occurred and I had to leave." He shrugged, as if he was unconcerned by this fact, but the tightening of his jaw and furrow of his brow gave him away.

"I was scavenging for food in one of Xehanort's outer cities when I was caught by a small group of guards. They would have killed me on the spot had I not managed to find something to defend myself with." Naminé listened silently, watching on as he absently lifted a hand to rub at his collar bone which was hidden beneath his shirt. A scar, she figured, but before she had chance to ask, he was continuing on.

"I held them off for as long as I could. I didn't want to die, but I knew it was inevitable. I'd lost everything by this point and I wondered why I kept going. So, I gave up." He paused then, his eyes flickering to meet hers, but they didn't linger long. His hand still pressed against his collar bone, he turned his gaze to the trees surrounding them. When he spoke again, he sounded almost wistful, "By some miracle, Palom and Porom found and rescued me. They disposed of the guards and brought me back to their camp, where I met the former leader of the Organization — Zack. He offered me a place among his ranks, the revenge I craved, a home… And I accepted."

Naminé mulled over the information, schooling her expression to appear unfazed by what she had learned, when in fact she felt quite conflicted. He had suffered just the same; he'd lost his parents and his home because of Xehanort. She couldn't deny that she felt a form of sympathy towards him. It was evident in his body language that even now he was still haunted by the ghosts of his past. She understood that much — her demons still haunted her, too.

"Ever since then, I've been fighting for the rebel cause after assuming leadership of Organization XIII from Zack." Roxas said, subtly drawing himself up to his full height, pride etched across his features. He looked at her properly this time, his chin jutting out, "And I don't regret a single moment of it."

"Organization XIII, hmm?" Naminé mused, testing the name out on her tongue. She'd heard it before; on the off chance her uncle mentioned his affairs at dinner. It indeed seemed that she had been taken by the very group of outlaw's he had been struggling to put down for years. They were supposedly the face of the rebellion led by Xehanort's only remaining brother, Eraqus — her other uncle, whom she had never had the fortune of meeting.

"Thirteen represents our number." Roxas pointed out needlessly.

The Princess narrowed her eyes, counting silently in her head. She could only recall seeing eleven people around camp, plus the man who had been captured by Xehanort. Perplexed, she asked, "But...you're one member short, are you not?"

He jerked, as if she had just slapped him a second time. His face hardened, his eyes shutting off. It was then that Naminé realises she had inadvertently crossed the line. The moment was gone. He wouldn't divulge in any further information of his past. "You should get ready." He grunted curtly. "We'll be moving on soon."

She watched him walk off and found that she didn't despise him as much as she had done ten minutes ago. For a moment, she could almost say that she understood his plight.

He had every reason to be bitter, to hate Xehanort with such a passion. She understood him a little better, understood what drove him, what his aims were. He just wanted freedom and justice, just the same as her.

She loathed Xehanort, for the way he had treated her and for the death of her parents. It went unsaid, but it was because of that man that her parents had perished and she had nearly died herself. He had caused it; she knew this without a doubt. To know that the very man who had killed her parents sat across the table from her at dinner, tormented her day in and day out, destroyed whatever life she had once had literally burned her from the inside out. She hated him, just as Roxas hated him, too.

They might not trust each other, nor even like one another, but they were still in the same boat. They had suffered, lost and grieved. They deserved justice. They deserved revenge.

Naminé brushed her hair back from her face and moved towards her horse with confident, purposeful strides. She reached up to untie her horse, when it let out a loud snort, tossing its head and jerking away from her. Naminé tried to calm it, talking in low, soothing tones, but the poor creature was spooked. She understood why when a hand coiled around her waist and something cool was pressed against the base of her throat. She let out a strangled gasp and froze, her eyes widening with terror. Her captor did not say a word, nor make any move to take her away, holding her firmly against his chest.

Slowly, they dragged her out from behind the horse, steering her sharply, forcing her forwards with an unkind push. Naminé gritted her teeth and struggled against the man's grip. He ceased her movements by pressing harder against her skin. She whimpered.

Axel noticed her first, letting out a cry of alarm and starting towards her, sword unsheathed. Others turned towards the commotion, hands already resting on their respective weapons, searching for the danger, when what seemed like a small army of men rose up out of the bushes, pointing swords or arrows at the group of outlaws.

Roxas growled, whipping around to stare at the person who held Naminé captive, his eyes as dark and as sharp as flint. "What is the meaning of this? Release her at once!"

"We don't take too kindly to having Xehanort's spies roam our lands." Naminé's captive retorted, tightening his hold on her when Roxas started forwards, enraged at the accusation. "Stand back, _boy_, or I'll slit her throat."

The noise that tore out of Roxas' throat was barely human, his eyes even darker and more terrifying, if such a thing was possible. "You _will_ release her. For if you do not, I will take _great_ pleasure in ending you and all of the men you have with you."

The Princess stared at him, both awed and scared. Never had she seen anyone so frightening, or angry. He was like an avenging angel straight out of a book she had once read, standing tall and proud, his stance heavy with a lethal promise. His men crowded around him, each looking equally as threatening and defiant. She had to do something, or there would be a blood bath and it would be her fault, yet again. But what could she do? Whether she died at the hands of this man or not, Roxas would still fight.

The man holding her captive laughed. He actually had the audacity to _laugh_. Naminé clenched her fists. "Have you not noticed? You are surrounded. Now surrender." He pressed the blade tighter against her neck. "Or she dies."

Naminé didn't know what she was thinking. It was like someone had flipped a switch and her instincts kicked in — her survival instincts. She had to fight to survive, to protect them from doing something they would all regret. She saw the anger boiling in their gazes and knew she had to act.

She raised her heel and slammed it down on the unsuspecting foot of her captor as hard and as sharply as she could. They flinched and recoiled with a surprised yell, giving her enough time to retract her elbow and ram it straight into the man's gut. She ducked under the knife and ran full pelt towards the outlaws without glancing back, her heart pounding in her ears.

Roxas' hand automatically shot out and wrapped firmly yet gently around her upper arm, tugging her into the ranks of his loyal followers. He turned his head briefly to glance at her, eyes assessing, lingering for a moment on her neck where the blade had shallowly pierced the skin, leaving a thin red line across her throat. Before she could speak, before she could assure that she was fine, his jaw tightened. He whipped back around and drew his sword, pointing it directly at the man who had harmed her, his expression icy.

The adrenalin was wearing off and Naminé's legs buckled, but both Zexion and Porom were suddenly there to catch her, each offering her slight smiles of reassurance. She tried to return them, but her lips wouldn't form the right shape. She was shaking. Two very close brushes with death within a day. She was beginning to think that being in the outside world wasn't as liberating as she had been expecting.

The man she had escaped from straightened, one hand clutched to his stomach, his glare fixed on her. "No matter." He grunted through gritted teeth, his gaze unrelenting. "The end result will still be the same." He jerked his chin towards the men surrounding them as a signal. They closed in on them. "You still die."

It happened so fast. Naminé was forced to the ground by Porom and Zexion. The outlaws prepared themselves while Roxas raised his sword, his face grim while the attackers darted forwards. She braced herself, clenching her eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable.

It was then that a single, clear voice rang out across the clearing.

_"Stop!"_

Everything and everyone seemed to pause. Naminé dared to open her eyes, peering around Zexion's legs as another figure entered the clearing. It was a woman, emitting a regal, fierce aura as she stepped calmly between the two opposing forces. Her cold, ice like eyes slowly swept around the area, briefly resting on the man who had threatened Naminé. He cowered, backing away from her as she glared darkly at him. After a moment, her gaze came to land upon Roxas.

A surprised, yet wry smile appeared on the woman's stoic face. "Roxas. It's been a long time." She stepped towards him, crossing her fist over her heart in a strange salute. "You've arrived earlier than we expected. Is everything alright?"

Everyone seemed to relax, except Roxas, who seemed stunned into silence. The blonde stared at her, his eyes wide. Hastily, he returned the salute, bowing lowly. "I am afraid we encountered slight complications. We seek within Eraqus' Realm." He straightened, his lips turning up into a half smile. "It's good to see you again, Lightning."

* * *

**A/N:** Star Trek reference for the win! Anyone catch it? No...? Well, I adore the new Star Trek film; Benedict Cumberbatch is a dream boat and an absolute bad ass, not to mention the beautiful Chris Pine and Zachary Quinto. *Swoon*

Anyways, not much to say about this, I just hope you all liked it. :D I've introduced Lightning, yays! She's one of my favourite Final Fantasy characters and I really look forward to the role she gets to play in the future plot.

Thanks for being patient, see you all next time!

_~AusisWinds-13_


	9. Mistrust

**A/N: **Hey there guys! Sorry about the wait. Sheesh, it's been over a month! I was struck with writer's block for the most part, hence the reason why this chapter is smaller than some of my previous ones.

A big**_ thank you_** to all of you who have reviewed! I'm overwhelmed by your support! I also want to say thank you for waiting as long as you have. Hopefully the next chapter will be easier to write. I hope you enjoy this latest installment!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any Kingdom Hearts or Final Fantasy characters!

* * *

**Chapter 9 :: Mistrust**

The air was thick with tension, even as Lightning waved her hand at her men to make them stand down. They each lowered their respective weapons, albeit reluctantly, still glaring distrustfully at the small group of outlaws, as if expecting them to turn on them at any second.

Zexion offered a hand out to Naminé to help her to her feet, which she accepted, eyeing the man who had threatened her apprehensively. He had been staring at her since she had escaped his grasp, his ice blue eyes narrowed into a menacing, angry glare. As she was not the type to be easily spooked, she made a show to stare right back, raising a single, challenging eyebrow at him.

Their staring contest was brought to a sharp close when Lightning — the newcomer who seemed to have some form of authority over the group of gormless rogues — began speaking. "I apologise for my men's rash actions." She dipped her head apologetically, pressing her palm to the centre of her chest. "They're still training. It is to my understanding that they believed you were spies for Xehanort. They _are_ becoming more and more common of late."

Naminé watched on as Roxas took a step forwards and looked over at his men, nodding once. For a moment, his gaze came to linger on her face, his eyes searching hers before he turned away again, almost hastily. She felt a strange flutter in her stomach, causing her to frown at such an unusual sensation. Her mind hastily assumed that it was embarrassment due to her earlier predicament involving her near kidnapping and apparent inability to stand independently. She had clung to him like a baby, even after expressing clear resentment towards him and him to her. That would make sense.

However, the intense hammering of her heart inside her ribcage was telling a different story. She pushed the thought from her mind.

Each of the outlaws slowly sheathed their weapons, although they didn't look particularly happy about it, judging by the suspicious looks they kept shooting Lightning's men. Once this was done, Roxas offered Lightning a thin smile, "No apology is necessary. It was a mere mistake, nothing more."

Lightning slowly returned his smile and made a welcoming gesture. "You've travelled far. You're welcome to rest back at our camp..." Her smile faded away suddenly as her eyes fell upon the Princess who had been attempting to appear inconspicuous so not to draw attention to herself. "Who is this? I don't believe I recognise her as one of your own."

There was a sharp undercurrent of immediate distrust in her voice, which Naminé tried to ignore. She clenched her hands by her sides, wishing with all of her heart that she did not have to be standing there in the clearing, heavily scrutinised by the formidable woman. She felt the ever increasing urge to snap at her, which probably wouldn't bode particularly well for her future personal well-being.

Before she had time to comment, Roxas had discreetly shifted so that he was standing partially in front of her, and although it wasn't enough to hide her from the woman's scorching stare, she felt infinitely better. When Roxas spoke, it was with feeling, as though he was challenging her to question him, "She is under _our_ temporary care."

Lightning's eyes flashed, but there was no animosity in her gaze. She looked curious, if not wary. "That doesn't tell me who she is." The woman pointed out bluntly, her eyes darting back to Roxas' face, a bemused smile growing across her thin lips. "Unless, you have no intention of enlightening me…?"

The same challenge Roxas had posed was now directed back at him. Naminé could literally see the tension in the set of his shoulders. She didn't understand why he was being so secretive about her. Wouldn't it benefit all parties if they knew what they were dealing with? And how bad could it be, anyway? She reached a hand out towards him, the movement hidden by the careful positioning of his body, and lightly touched his shoulder blade.

To his credit, he didn't flinch. Instead, his head tilted minutely in her direction, although his eyes remained fixed on Lightning's face. Once she knew she had his attention, she withdrew her hand immediately, whispering to him, "Tell her. What harm can it do?"

Finally, his eyes darted to hers, filled with a silent question and mild confusion. She gave him an imperceptible nod of her head. The tension dissipated from his shoulders somewhat, although the twist of his lips told her he wasn't quite at ease with her decision.

"Her name is Naminé." He muttered unhappily.

She jolted at the sound of her name being used, gaping unattractively at the back of his head. She hadn't informed him of her name, nor had he formally given her his own, so she was surprised to say the least to learn that he knew of hers. She had only spoken her name to a handful of people and she could think of one who might have given it to him...

A peek over her shoulder at the young woman beside her told her everything she needed to know, judging by the completely guilt-free expression on her face. Porom was the culprit here, but Naminé couldn't bring herself to be angry. It was only a name, after all.

Roxas was continuing, oblivious to her shock, "She is Xehanort's daughter."

Naminé felt a strange tug in her chest as he spoke those words aloud. It was a lie. She wasn't his daughter, not really. Porom knew. She was certain that Zexion, being the clever person that he was, had also figured it out. It wouldn't surprise her, either, if Saïx had his doubts about her apparent parentage. She wondered, then, why nobody had chosen to rat her out yet.

The change in Lightning's face was immediate. All signs of amusement fled her features and a sharp, barely veiled expression of outrage crept across her face. "His..._daughter_?" Her voice was strained, a poor attempt at neutrality. Hatred and malice had seeped through into her tone. "Tell me, _how_ did you come by her?"

Zexion, who hadn't moved from her side, stiffened and pressed closer to her, having perceived some sort of subtle threat towards her wellbeing. She immediately felt Porom by her left elbow, her presence like a soothing wave of calm washing over her. She hadn't realised it until that moment, but she was afraid of what might happen. They had barely avoided a bloodbath earlier; she didn't know if they could avoid another.

Even Roxas seemed uncomfortable by the sudden change of atmosphere. "I ordered her kidnapping in retaliation for the capture of one of my own." He admitted, straightening boldly. "But that is another matter best shared in a quieter place."

Naminé picked up on his hidden meaning immediately. It would be better to exchange stories in a place that no one would overhear. It seemed, then, that he was more wary of Lightning's men than the woman herself. Perhaps she was trustworthy?

"We shall discuss that matter later, then." Lightning agreed, her face giving nothing away. Naminé wouldn't have been bothered had it not been for the fact that her eyes had barely left her face since her identity had been revealed. It was slightly unnerving.

The woman finally looked away from her after a final glare, before turning and moving to leave the clearing with an air of finality. She paused for a moment and called back to Roxas in a smooth voice, "Shall we? It appears that we have a lot to discuss."

"Yes. I believe we do." Roxas agreed, pressing his fist to his chest, imitating her earlier salute. He bowed his head and while Naminé couldn't see his face, she knew he probably looked very strained. "Thank you for your hospitality. We truly appreciate it."

Naminé felt several of the people around her shift, the air seeming to grow heavier with unease. Even she felt unsure of their current situation. Just what did they have to discuss? Annoyingly enough, she didn't get a chance to voice her question. As soon as Lightning made to leave the clearing, beckoning her group to follow, Roxas rounded on his men and started issuing orders.

"Palom, Porom—" He indicated to them both, his expression neutral. While his face gave none of his underlying emotions away, his expressive eyes were a different story. He was on edge. "—you both know what to do. Protective wards, anything that can make us better defended; the usual business. We can never be too careful. The rest of you — collect any supplies you can and prepare the horses. We won't be staying long." He then turned to Naminé, glancing at her for a brief second before looking towards the slate haired man beside her. "Zexion, keep an eye on the Princess while I'm gone."

"Wait, _where_ are you going?" She demanded, pushing through the throng of busying people to stop in front of the leader. Naminé felt a wave of indignation with a hint of underlying panic rise up within her, although she had no idea where it came from. Was it natural to feel worried about someone who had gone out of their way to insult you, make it clear that they hated the very ground you walked on, only to then save your life and change everything you had ever thought about them? "You can't just—"

Roxas cut her off with a noncommittal wave of his hand. "Don't worry. I'll be back soon and we can leave." His hand half reached towards her, like a gesture of comfort, only to stop just short of her shoulder. He withdrew it quickly, looking almost spooked. "Stay with Zexion." He muttered shortly before wheeling away. "Saïx, with me."

The Princess stared after him, her eyebrows drawing into an uncertain frown. She felt uneasy — they all did — so why did he insist on staying longer than absolutely necessary? And why did he seem so on edge around her? He couldn't even hold her gaze for longer than a few seconds.

All of a sudden, there was a gentle, reassuring hand pressing against her elbow. She glanced up to see Zexion standing beside her, watching her intently with his intelligent eyes, like he was trying to stare into her very soul. She felt as though he was trying to figure out her deepest, darkest secrets.

"Does he trust her?" She asked immediately, tearing her gaze away from his. The look on his face — it was as though he knew something she didn't and she hated that.

"Lightning, you mean?" He questioned. When she nodded, he sighed, dropping his hand back to his side. "Well, yes, we all do. It's her _men_ Roxas is distrustful of. Lightning said it herself — they're in training." He paused, eyes darting around momentarily, but all of her men had seemingly disappeared. In a quieter voice, he continued, "Any one of them could be a spy for Xehanort, which is precisely why he is taking precautions. It's also probably why Lightning has taken him somewhere private to speak. I doubt that even she fully trusts them yet."

Naminé absorbed this information silently. It made sense. Nobody would be completely trusting of strangers after all. Besides, Roxas seemed happy enough to see Lightning. That brought another query to her mind. "How does he know her?"

"That's a good question..." Zexion trailed off, tipping his head to the side. "I believe Zack introduced them to one another some time ago, just before things really went south for Eraqus' Resistance."

Something clicked in her head. "Roxas mentioned Zack to me earlier..." She mused, recalling the man's name being brought up in their conversation. She had no idea who he was, apart from the fact that he had been the leader before Roxas and he was someone that Roxas clearly respected greatly.

Zexion looked over at her sharply, although if he was surprised that Roxas had divulged such information with her, he didn't show it and merely nodded contentedly instead. "Zack Fair. He used to lead our group, back in the day when we were simply known as 'The Organization'. When Roxas assumed leadership, he changed our number and name." At this, his lips subtly curled up at the corners. "We're better off for it, I've always thought."

Naminé pursed her lips, huffing irritably. "I do not understand him."

"I take it you mean Roxas." Zexion mused, one hand cupping his chin thoughtfully. "He's a difficult person to understand, to get to know. There are some things about him which remain a mystery even to us. Although..." His lips twitched. It was such a small movement that she might not have noticed it if she hadn't chosen that exact moment to look at him. "...If you give it time, perhaps you'll come to know him better than the rest of us do."

"What on earth makes you say that?" She asked, taken aback and slightly defensive. Know him? She was not so sure she wanted to "know him", especially so intimately in the way he was suggesting.

Zexion's lips subtly curled up at the corners as he shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. "Call it a hunch."

**····» **₪** «····**

Roxas and Saïx followed Lightning as she led them deeper into her camp, past an array of tents, several training areas and temporary horse pens. Everywhere was very structured and organised, fitting in well with Lightning's strict persona. As a person she was fierce and well respected but as commander of the rebel army, she was virtually unstoppable and was held in the utmost highest regard. Even Roxas looked up to her and it wasn't hard to see why.

Lightning pushed aside the tarp and entered the tent, holding it open so that Roxas and Saïx could follow her inside before allowing it to drop behind them. She strode further into the large space, stopping before an oak table which was covered with documents and quills, much like his own personal work area. She took a moment to clear it up before making a vague gesture to the two chairs sat in front of it.

Roxas glanced around as he eased himself down into one of the plush armchairs, noting that her tent was rather bare in comparison to his own, with only the odd few personal belongings littering the walls and surfaces. He supposed it was because she was always moving around, from one area to the next, gathering soldiers and potential recruits. She was very important to their cause and was often called away to attend secret meetings or to oversee major battle plans.

His eyes fell upon a painted portrait and Roxas felt his stomach twist guiltily. It was a perfect replica of Lightning and Serah. The latter was beaming widely with her arm wrapped around her sister's waist, while the former had her head slightly tilted down towards Serah, her lips curled up at the corners.

He spared Saïx a look, who shot him a small grimace. He'd seen it too. Quickly, Roxas turned his attention to the commander of the rebel army as she sat herself down opposite them, hoping his face didn't give anything away.

She clasped her hands together and levelled her gaze on Roxas, a wry smile appearing on her lips. "Zack sends his regards. He's been asking how you're doing."

Despite himself, Roxas felt himself smile. Of course he'd asked after him — he always did. He could always count on his old mentor. Still smiling, he spoke, "Are he and Aerith well?"

Lightning nodded soundly, her eyes glinting with amusement. "Yes. He apparently asked her to marry him a month back. Needless to say, she said yes." She paused for a moment, pursing her lips almost thoughtfully. "So, what brings you so far North?"

He could tell that the light-hearted mood had swiftly come to an end. Straightening unconsciously, Roxas relayed the events of the previous several days to her, from the capture of Terra, successful kidnapping of the Princess and the daring rescue, although he was cautious to leave out the news of Serah's strange appearance, figuring it best to save it until the end. "...And just this morning we were ambushed by a group of men who were after the Princess. We killed three of them and sent the other three back to Xehanort. I doubt he'll be lenient with them."

Lightning took a moment to absorb the information given to her, leaning her chin against her laced fingers. Her eyes eventually met his. "Kidnapping Xehanort's daughter... That was a bold move, even for you." She tilted her head to the side questioningly. "Why kidnap her? What could you possibly gain?"

Roxas listed off his reasons sharply, "Leverage. Protection. Future insurance. A Princess may come in handy during what's bound to come." After sharing a short glance with Saïx, who gave a slight nod, he knew it was time to inform her of her sister. Tentatively, he spoke again, "...There's something else you should know."

Lightning's features hardening and he knew that he had her attention. He mentally steeled himself for what was about to come, breathing in deeply. "There was another prisoner who was due to be executed alongside Terra..." He met her gaze directly. "It was Serah."

As expected, her expression immediately changed. Anger and panic flitted across her features, her eyes becoming sharp and demanding. "Serah? What happened? Where is she?"

It was Saïx who spoke this time, finally breaking his silence, his voice cool and reassuring, "We're not sure. We can only assume she was captured on her way back home." Lightning's lips thinned and Saïx rushed on, "She's safe now, do not worry. She escaped with Terra. Roxas witnessed it himself."

The woman stood abruptly and began pacing, her hand brushing against the hilt of the sword strapped to her waist. Roxas guessed that she was imagining herself stabbing it straight through Xehanort's chest. "He wanted to draw me out. He knew hurting her would..." She broke off, clenching her fists tightly by her sides. "That man... He'll pay. He's gotten away with his crimes for too long."

Lightning's hand kept returning to her sword as she paced back and forth before apparently gaining control of herself long enough to sit back down. Her eyes, however, still held that spark of anger which could instil fear into even the toughest of men. "I want to meet his daughter." She said darkly.

Roxas was taken aback by her sudden request. From beside him, Saïx immediately raised a question. "Would that be wise?"

Lightning shot him a look Roxas couldn't quite determine, but it was enough to silence his second in command. "I'm intrigued by her." She admitted honestly, "I only wish to meet her, to see if she's at all like the man who fathered her."

Roxas considered his options. He could refuse Lightning. After a while she would drop the subject and they could continue on their way. Or he could oblige her. If it was a mere curiosity, he saw no problem in allowing her to meet Naminé... So long as he remained in the room, she would be safe. Lightning wouldn't do anything too drastic such as hurting the girl, he knew her well enough to almost be certain of that, but right now she was angry and anger could change even the most level-headed of people. He would have to be careful with how he approached this.

Saïx looked ready to argue with her further on the matter, but Roxas waved him away. "It's alright, Saïx. Find the Princess and tell her we wish to speak with her."

His second in command jerked, turning towards him questioningly. Roxas nodded confidently, which seemed to mollify the man. Slowly, he stood, offering Lightning the usual salute, albeit stiffly, before exiting the tent.

Lightning turned to Roxas once he had gone, lowering her voice, "Do you trust him?"

He frowned openly at her, feeling the sudden need to come to the man's defence. "With my life. Saïx has been by my side since day one. He's been nothing but loyal."

"Don't you think it's odd that you were ambushed a day after you kidnapped the Princess?" She asked stiffly, her eyes searching his knowingly. "You said that your men seemed certain that nobody had detected them, so doesn't it stand to reason that someone informed Xehanort of your whereabouts?"

"I haven't had time to really think about it." He admitted, shifting uncomfortably, still slightly annoyed that she had chosen to mistrust his second in command — the man whose hands he had placed his life into so readily many times before. "But it does stand to reason that someone informed Xehanort, yes. I just find it hard — no, impossible — to believe that Saïx would do that to me, to his comrades." He drew himself up in his chair, his expression defiant. "He's my most trusted ally, second only to Palom, Porom and Zack, all of whom are like family to me."

"Then who else could it be?"

The question hung in the air between them, unanswered. Truly, he had no idea. He simply didn't want to think that anybody within his group was capable of putting not only themselves, but their partners, in danger. He couldn't imagine that anyone would do that to them, not even Larxene who pretty much hated everyone as it was. It was something to ponder over, for sure.

Before another word could be said on the matter, the tent flap was lifted again as Saïx ushered the Princess inside. He looked towards Roxas for a brief second before turning to leave them again, his expression strained.

The Princess stepped towards the table, pausing short of the armchairs. She was wearing the clothes he had given to her, he noticed and probably had been since that morning. It was strange to see her in such normal clothing, compared to the elaborate dress she had arrived in. She truly did look like one of them, just as Porom had said earlier; although that was something he would never admit to. As if sensing his gaze, her eyes instantly snapped to him. She looked confused, wary too; unsure as to what she was doing in their presence.

He opened his mouth to say something — whether to reassure her or to introduce her, he wasn't sure — but he didn't get the chance to speak.

"So this Princess is the reason why your camp was discovered, correct?" Lightning asked suddenly, her voice icy. She was staring straight at the girl, eyeing her with a mixture of curiosity and hostility, although the question had been directed at him.

To her credit, Naminé didn't even flinch. Her eyes remained steadily fixed on Lightning's face, the rest of her unmoving, like a cold stone statue. Although, for a brief moment, her face contorted with an emotion he couldn't place before it disappeared and a neutral expression replaced it. She tilted her chin arrogantly and looked down her nose at the woman before her, lips curled. However, she didn't say anything to defend herself.

Roxas didn't like the sound of Lightning's voice and the insinuation hidden not-so subtly beneath her words. Uncertainly, he replied, "That would be...an accurate assumption."

"Look at her. She's arrogant and conceited, having been told since birth that the world is hers to own." The woman jabbed an accusatory thumb at the girl. "She'll only bring you misery and hatred, just like her father. Therefore, she's a liability; a liability that could turn on you and your men in a second." Lightning declared dispassionately with a wave of her hand, breaking away from the girl's stare. "You should have had her killed the moment you captured her."

He immediately felt his hackles rise. Roxas barely noticed the way Naminé's fists clenched; all he saw was red. He responded to her cold statement curtly through gritted teeth, "And what would that have achieved?" He squared his shoulders at Lightning challengingly. "If Xehanort discovers that she is dead, he'll only prove to be more dangerous. No, I would not have her killed, not now or ever."

Finally, he dared to look towards the girl. She was staring straight ahead, hands clenched by her side's. The only sign that she had heard him was the slight widening of her eyes.

"But he'll be even more dangerous if she's alive." Lightning snapped, bringing his attention straight back to her. "He'll stop at nothing to return her to his side."

"And he'll stop at nothing to destroy the people who killed his daughter." Roxas shook his head, imploring with her. "The Princess remains with us, _alive_. You should trust me on this."

The woman in front of him seemed to be struggling with an internal battle. She watched the Princess through narrowed eyes, the clenching of her jaw clearly visible. It took her a moment to compose herself before she gracefully lowered herself back into her chair, refusing to so much as look at the girl whose fate hung in the balance. "Alright. It is your decision." She conceded with a worn smile. "I have faith in you as I always have."

Roxas allowed himself a sigh of relief and noticed that the Princess seemed to relax slightly, too.

"What will you do now?" Lightning asked curiously, directing her question to him, having apparently taken to ignoring the Princess entirely.

"We'll head deeper into Eraqus' Realm, with your permission." Roxas declared, feeling more at ease now the conversation had returned to familiar territory. "I think it would be wise to head to where the army has gathered. I believe Xehanort will strike soon and we need to be ready. And if he doesn't, we'll have to be the ones to make the first move. You were right — he's gotten away with this for too long."

He paused for a moment, remembering Terra and Riku's strong devotion to his brother. "I also hoped to leave one of my men behind with you in order to wait for Terra. I would wait myself, but we have little time and must keep moving."

"Of course. You do as you must." Lightning replied fondly. She reached for one of the maps on the desk in front of her, pointing to a particular spot. "The army is based at the foot of the mountain. Continue heading North and you'll find it in no time." She sifted out a piece of parchment and quickly scrawled something onto it before handing it and the map to him. "Present this to any patrols you may come across — if they do not recognise you themselves — and hopefully they will allow you access."

"I shall also have my men give you fresh supplies, should you need them. You'll have a way to go until you reach the nearest village in Eraqus' Realm." Lightning continued, "And of course, you are welcome to rest here for as long as you need before continuing on."

Roxas stood and bowed low, his fist pressed to his chest in a salute. She had given him more than he could have hoped for and he made sure to let his appreciation show. "Thank you for your hospitality and generosity." He said softly once he'd straightened. "We will not trouble you for much longer."

Lightning dipped her head once, a sign of acceptance and a gesture that told him he was allowed to leave. Roxas turned to the Princess, who hadn't moved since she had entered and waited for her to look at him. When it became apparent that she wasn't going to, he brushed past her and headed towards the entrance of the tent. Silently, she followed him, not saying a word even as the tarp swung back down behind them.

He slowed his pace until she caught up with him. She said nothing, staring straight ahead, her expression unreadable. Feeling the need to fill the stifling silence between them, Roxas cleared his throat and spoke, "Lightning is a good leader."

Naminé looked across at him coolly and raised an eyebrow. "You don't need to defend her. She disliked me. It's not inconceivable." She promptly turned her gaze back to the floor, her voice lowering to a mere whisper, "It may come as a surprise to you, but I do not expect everyone to kiss the very ground I walk on. Not anymore."

Not knowing what to say to that, Roxas allowed the silence to relapse between them once more. He was surprised, then, when it was Naminé who struck up a conversation, sounding wary, "You...stood up for me in there. Even when she suggested that you should kill me. Why?"

He glanced over at her sharply. Her head was turned towards the ground, her eyes fixated on her own feet. Slowly, he let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. "Killing you would be illogical and wrong. It wouldn't solve anything and it certainly wouldn't help with our situation." He scratched at the back of his head. "Is it so hard to believe that I am opposed to killing you?"

Her face scrunched up, eyebrows drawing together as her lips formed two words, "...Thank...you..."

Roxas blinked and dipped his head, replying to her gratitude in kind, "...You're welcome."

Silence fell for a third time, only it soon became unbearable. Roxas even started twitching before he coughed unpleasantly and made a vague gesture towards the camp, stumbling over his own words, "I-I must find Riku. Will you be alright from here?"

"I believe so." Naminé mumbled after taking in her surroundings. She nodded more confidently, her eyes barely flitting to his. He tried to ignore this.

They stopped walking abruptly, turning in opposite directions. They met the others gaze over their shoulders.

"I shall...see you later." Roxas muttered, turning away from her again almost instantly.

"I... Yes." Naminé responded, also facing herself away from him.

Roxas practically ran from her — he was so desperate to get away from the horrible atmosphere that had settled between them. He almost missed the yelling and insulting — it had been easier than whatever the hell had just happened. At least he'd known where he stood.

Little did he know, she felt the exact same way.

He found Riku five minutes later, sitting on a fallen log while sharpening the knife Terra had given to him for his birthday on a whetstone. He seemed deep in thought and did not notice Roxas standing there until he cleared his throat.

The young man leaned back and sheathed his knife, immediately brightening. "Roxas. How did your meeting with Lightning go?"

"Good. We're to be given supplies and then we shall be on our way." Roxas responded, taking a seat next to him and running a hand through his hair. "But before that, I wanted to run something by you."

Riku's answer was immediate, his face serious, "What can I do?"

"I have a map of where we're heading." He separated the parchment from the written note Lightning had given him and handed it to Riku. "But, I want you to stay behind and wait for Terra." He hurried on before the young man could protest, "I can't ask you to come with us when he may very well be less than half a day behind. If he found those horses we left for him, he might be even closer."

While he looked hesitant to accept, the sheer happiness bubbling inside him was obvious to anyone. "Thank you." Riku clasped Roxas' upper forearm, squeezing it lightly. "Thank you, Roxas."

Roxas nodded kindly and stood. "Alright. We'll have to get moving." He smiled at Riku. "Hopefully the next time we meet, Terra will be with you."

**····» **₪** «····**

They'd been riding for several hours now, pausing only when the Princess' complaints became too much for Terra to bear. He prided himself on being a rather tolerant person, but his patience was definitely being put to the test when it came to the spoilt and annoying child under his protection.

He wondered how Ven could even put up with someone as insufferable as her, but whenever he glanced back at the boy in the middle of one of Xion's rants, he would be smiling to himself, as if amused by the constant whining which grated on Terra's nerves. And it was because of that smile that he stopped himself from snapping at the girl.

The only person who hadn't had a lot to say — whether it be to complain or to engage in a pleasant conversation — was the very woman seated behind him.

Terra was hyper-aware of the pair of arms wrapped around his abdomen and the constant presence of a warm body pressed against his back, although he'd done his best to ignore it for the past several hours that they'd been travelling.

He found her silence unnerving; Aqua hadn't spoken a word since they'd discovered the horses and out of respect for her evident wishes to be left in peace, he hadn't made any attempts to strike up a conversation with her. He'd noticed that she barely even looked at him anymore and that when she did, it were as though she was cringing at the sight and would quickly correct herself and turn away. He wasn't sure if it was something he had said to offend her, or if there was something else that was bothering her. Whatever it was, Ven seemed to have noticed her strange behaviour, too, although the boy hadn't yet had the chance to talk with her about it.

A sudden noise to his left shook him out of his thoughts. His head immediately snapped towards the sound, his blue eyes narrowed as he sought out its source. Despite it being almost midday, there was very little sunlight which filtered through the thick boughs of the trees surrounding them. He felt slightly on edge; there could be someone hiding in the shadows and he wouldn't even know it. He could practically sense a dark presence tucked away out there, just out of his reach.

One of Aqua's hands pulled away from his abdomen to rest on his shoulder. "Are you alright?"

With great effort, he pulled his gaze away from the seemingly harmless forest surrounding them and glanced over at the woman seated behind him. Her eyes shone with concern, brows furrowed as she regarded him, searching his face. It was the longest she had looked at him in quite some time. Somehow, he managed a nod.

"Are you sure?" She pressed, her hand dropping back to curl around his stomach.

"I'll be glad once we catch up to Roxas and the others." Terra admitted quietly, careful so not to speak so loud that Ven would overhear them. He'd seen the look on his face when he had mistakenly called him 'Roxas'. His expression had been torn between confusion, panic and pain. It was something he never wanted to see on the young boy's face again. "I don't like being out in the open like this."

Aqua nodded in agreement, her face darkening with dread. "Me neither. It feels like we're being watched." She visibly shivered, unconsciously pressing herself even closer to him, her cheek resting against his shoulder.

"You don't need to worry. We'll be alright." He turned away from her, pondering over her words. She could sense the strange presence too? "If anything or anyone attacks us, I'll protect you." And he meant it. He would do anything to protect them all, even if it meant sacrificing himself so they could escape. His thoughts came to an abrupt halt. Since when had that become an option?

There was a long pause in which neither of them said anything to fill the silence. It drew out for a long and uncomfortable period of time before Aqua finally spoke again, "What are they like? Your comrades?"

He thought for a moment, wondering how to respond. "Well— they're a unique bunch, I suppose you could say." A fond smile crept across Terra's face despite himself. "There are twelve of us; twelve very different people from very different backgrounds, but we're family."

"Tell me more about them." Aqua encouraged, sounding intrigued, her hands crossing lightly over his stomach. If she noticed his discomfort at the action, she didn't say anything and remained in her chosen position.

He shifted slightly and cleared his throat, "Uh... Well, Saïx is the second in command; he's the abrasive and silent type, not the sort of person you want to get on the bad side of. Marluxia is very sly and Larxene has a mean streak with a mean temper to match; they're two of a kind. Zexion is quiet, very intelligent and chooses his words carefully while Demyx is the absolute opposite. He is loud and boisterous, with a love of music." Terra paused long enough to tilt his head back to see her expression. She was smiling gently to herself, her head bowed away from him as she listened to him speak.

With a smile of his own, he continued, relaxing into the conversation, "Luxord is the resident gambler, useful in a tight spot, very good with numbers. Axel...how to describe Axel. He just emits this sarcastic flair for the most part and is very sneaky, but he's insanely loyal to those he trusts. Palom and Porom are these two twins who are quite possibly the most powerful mages I've ever come across in a long time. Prodigies really. Palom is kind of arrogant, but Porom keeps him in line. Roxas is tough, a little cynical and perhaps moody at the best of times but he's a brilliant leader. I have a lot of respect for him." He sucked in a deep breath and closed his eyes briefly. "...And then there's Riku. He's my younger brother, the one I mentioned before. I think you'd like him; he kind of reminds me of you."

Terra felt Aqua's cheek against his back. "I'm sure I will. I can't wait to meet him. Or the rest of them for that matter."

The silence which fell between them this time was neither awkward nor strained and Terra found that he was glad that he had told Aqua about his less-than-perfect family. It seemed to have put her at ease, not to mention it had done wonders for himself. He'd finally allowed himself to believe that he would soon be reunited with his brother and nothing else really mattered to him.

He was so distracted by his own thoughts that he didn't notice the moving shadows to their left, nor did he see the amber eyes glaring out at the five of them from behind the tall trees. Aqua, however, did.

She shuddered and pressed herself even closer to Terra's back, turning her face away in an attempt to hide herself from the leering gaze. She knew it was him. It had to be. And she was leading him straight to what he and Xehanort wanted. Guilt ran through her veins like ice. If only she could tell Terra. Perhaps he could send a message to his leader, or somehow shake Vanitas off their trail. It was a naïve thought. She was almost certain that Vanitas would kill her before she had a chance to open her mouth.

She felt her hackles, along with her fear, rise. With every moment that passed, they were getting nearer and nearer to their destination and their downfall.

She didn't know what to do. And that made her feel helpless. More than anything, she wanted to find Naminé, but if people were going to get hurt and possibly die in the process, she wanted nothing to do with it. If Ven or Naminé or even Terra were to get caught in the crossfire she didn't know what she would do — it would be her fault after all. She would have to bear that responsibility on her shoulders.

Her mind was still whirring through potential ideas that could save them from Vanitas when Xion's exasperated voice echoed throughout the eerie trees surrounding them. "Can't we stop? We've been riding for hours! I'm absolutely famished."

Aqua immediately straightened, pulling away from Terra slightly, a light blush rising to her cheeks. She had been so preoccupied with her own thoughts that she hadn't realised that she'd been holding onto him so tightly.

She started when Terra slowed their horse down and leaned forwards suddenly, reaching into the saddle bag hanging by their legs. He pulled something out and twisted around in the saddle, calling out to her friend who was almost riding parallel to them by now. "Hey Ven." The boy looked up as Terra tossed the object to him. "Catch."

Ven stood up in the saddle, slightly jostling Xion's grip, and easily caught the object. He looked down at it for a moment, eyes narrowed in suspicion, before handing it back to the Princess seated behind him with a warm smile. "Here you go Xion, this should keep you going."

Aqua didn't miss the look of disdain which flickered across the girl's face and apparently Ven noticed it too. "An apple?" The girl queried bluntly. She stared blankly at the back of the boy's head. "Seriously?"

A very slight frown appeared on Ven's face, so small that Aqua almost missed it. All too soon it vanished into his usual serene expression. "What were you expecting?" He asked, his vice gentle yet admonishing. "We aren't—"

"I know, I know. We aren't at the castle anymore." Xion snapped, taking a healthy bite of the apple, munching furiously on it. For a moment, she was quiet, the crunching of the apple being the only sound coming from her until she suddenly spoke again, her words slightly muffled, "For what it's worth, I do not regret leaving, not for a second."

The woman looked away from the two teenagers, feeling as though she were invading something private. She felt a hand cover her own.

"Are you alright?" Terra asked softly, mimicking her earlier question. Her lips curved into a wistful smile.

"Yes. Yes, I'm fine." Aqua replied, only partly lying. She was fine for the most part. She only wished that she wasn't haunted even now by Xehanort's ever oppressive presence. Those amber eyes were enough of a reminder for her.

Terra's grip on her hand tightened. "Something is troubling you." It wasn't a question; more a statement of a fact. She inwardly cursed his perception.

"It's nothing to worry about." She hastened to add, already feeling the deadly burn of those eyes in her back. She cringed, unable to help herself. Needless to say, the man seated in front of her noticed.

For a moment, he said nothing, before allowing his voice to drop to a quiet whisper, "Something is following us, isn't it?"

Aqua shuddered against his back, not daring to respond verbally. She felt as though Vanitas were right there, glaring at her, waiting for her to slip up so he could strike.

Terra's next question took her by surprise. "Can we take them?"

This time, she shook her head. Among them, there was only one capable fighter who couldn't possibly defend them all. Vanitas had goodness knows how many men with him and she had witnessed his magic first hand and had his brutality directed upon her before.

The man in front of her sagged slightly. "Well we can't just lead them to the Organization." He shook his head fiercely. "If only I had back up."

Before she could ask him why, a strange sound emanated from the bushes ahead of them. Terra raised a fist and halted their horse. Serah, Ven and Xion stopped just behind him. Carefully, he slid down from the saddle and unsheathed the sword attached to his belt. Aqua made a move to follow him, but he quelled her with a look.

He stepped towards the rustling bushes, holding his sword out in front of him. Suddenly there was a flash of silver and a figure rushed at Terra from the side, their own blade raised. Aqua let out a cry in warning, but Terra was already moving, swiftly bringing his sword up to parry the blow and push the attacker back.

He twirled his sword and charged towards the assailant but faltered as his eyes fell upon the man's face. Terra allowed his grip on his blade to go limp as he came to an abrupt stop. "...Riku?"

The assailant immediately halted his attack, jerking back with a strangled gasp of surprise. "Terra?"

Now the two of them had stopped moving around, Aqua could see that the young man who had attacked Terra had long, flowing silver hair and the brightest aquamarine eyes she had ever seen. But they weren't looking at her — they were focused on the brunette.

The swords in both of the men's hands were abandoned as they pulled the other into a strong hug, their bewildered laughter ringing throughout the trees.

Aqua glanced over her shoulder and shared a look with Ven, whose expression reflected her confusion, his shoulders lifting into a half-shrug. Xion looked disinterested, still eating delicately at the apple given to her, while Serah beamed as she slid off her saddle with ease, grabbing a handful of the reins as she watched the spectacle.

The stranger — Riku, obviously the brother Terra has spoken of — slapped the other man's back in a friendly manner, his lips pulled into small smile which seemed to light up his entire face. "It's good to see you, brother. I almost mistook you for one of Xehanort's patrols."

"It's good to see you too." Terra responded in kind, somewhat bewildered yet overjoyed with being reunited with his younger brother.

Riku sighed, leaning back and gripping at Terra's upper arm, apparently not noticing the four other people a few feet away. "You had a lot of us worried back there." He blew a strand of hair out of his face, a frown settling across his features. "Me included. What happened to you? When I heard you'd been captured... It just didn't sit straight with me. You're not that stupid."

Terra scratched at the back of his head, his eyes flitting towards Aqua, who was watching the two of them with wide eyes and a small smile. He dropped his gaze with a nervous chuckle, "Your confidence in me is flattering, really, but everyone makes mistakes, Riku."

The silver haired man shook his head adamantly. "Not you."

The older brother smiled sheepishly and shrugged, not willing to own up as to why, exactly, he had been caught. It embarrassed him just thinking about it. And to make matters worse, the very Princess he had tried and failed to capture was sitting behind the boy who was a spitting image of their commander... He was going to have a lot to explain and he only hoped Riku would listen long enough for him to do so.

"There are some people I want you to meet." Terra began stiffly, gesturing to the small group of people seated on their respective horse. When Riku let out a noise which sounded like a strangled mix between confusion and alarm upon seeing Ven's face, he elbowed him sharply in the gut. Riku's mouth immediately snapped shut, although there was a clear question present in his eyes.

Terra groaned inwardly, wanting to prolong the inevitable. He gestured to the young woman who had clambered down from their shared ride to greet his brother. "This is Aqua. She helped Serah and I escape."

Riku ran an assessing eye over the woman, sizing her up and apparently coming to a decision. With a half-smile, he held out his hand towards her. "Nice to meet you." Aqua gently placed he hand into his. Riku shook it firmly. "Thanks for helping my brother and Serah."

Before Aqua could respond, there was a light thud as Ven dropped to the ground before turning to help Xion down from the saddle. Terra braced himself mentally and nodded towards the boy. "And this is _Ventus_." He emphasised the boy's name pointedly, casting warning glance at his brother. "Without either of them we might not have made it out of there."

Ven looked wary, one of his hands pressed against Xion's arm protectively as she tried to peer past him. He said nothing, silently watching Terra's younger brother, sizing him up as Riku had done with Aqua. Apparently satisfied, his hostile expression lessened somewhat and he nodded kindly in greeting.

Riku responded with a mirrored nod, his face emotionless, even though he was obviously bursting with questions. The sharp look he shot Terra was enough to give that much away.

He glanced back over at Ven, his eyes immediately drawn to the girl glaring up at him from behind the boy's protective arm. He squinted, looking from the sapphire pendant around her neck to the clearly expensive dress clinging to her body. Ven froze, his hand tightening on the girl instinctively.

Aqua, noticing Ven's stiff form, quickly intervened before the man could ask any questions. "This is Xion." She reported kindly, "She's a servant, alongside Ven and myself."

Xion scoffed loudly, but when Ven jerked his arm slightly, she sobered, choosing to stare defiantly at Aqua instead. The woman paid her no mind, her attention focused on Riku, hoping he'd accept her hastily spun tale.

However, Terra knew his brother well enough to know that he wouldn't be satisfied by the story. He could sniff out a lie a mile off. While it was courageous of Aqua to try and protect the Princess her best friend was so fond of, he knew it was futile.

As expected, Riku laughed and shook his head. "Nice try. She holds herself too proudly to be a servant. And then there's her attire... It's worth more than even I could steal in a year..." He trailed off, his eyes widening with realisation. He jabbed an accusatory finger at the girl, reaching for his belt where a knife sat. "_You're_ the Princess. Xehanort's daughter."

Xion pushed past Ven to defend herself. She drew herself up to her full height, her nose wrinkled and eyes narrowing. "Yes, I am." She replied curtly. "And what of it?"

The realisation in his eyes turned to suspicion. He took a step towards the Princess, easily towering over her small form. Dangerously, he whispered, "If you're Xehanort's daughter then just _who_ is the girl that is travelling with Roxas?"

* * *

**A/N:** There you have it! Terra has been reunited with his brother, Riku has met both Ven and Xion and he's figured out her true identity. Finally, the pace is starting to pick up and we can get to the good stuff! Admittedly, there was a little bit of a time skip in the last scene, which shall all be fixed up in the beginning of the next chapter. Have no fear!

I already know what's going to happen in the next chapter — now I've just got to write it. But as I mentioned on my profile, it's literally only a few weeks away from summer, meaning I'll have oodles of time on my hands — which means more writing!

Another thing I put on my profile was the fact that I'm writing a collection of one-shots dedicated to Xion and her story in the RotS universe. As you all know by now, she's a pretty mysterious character and I'd like to give you all some insight into why she is the way she is. I've decided that I'll take some prompts; so if there is anything you — as the reader — would like to see regarding Xion and her past/present/future, whether it be entailing other characters or something in particular you'd like to know, just send me a PM and I'll see what I can do!

Shout out to _SummonerDagger88_ who has recently drawn some new pictures for this fic! The links are on my profile so you should definitely check them out!

Big thanks, take care and I'll see you all next time!

_~AusisWinds-13_


	10. Fear

******A/N:** Gosh, the past few weeks have been busy... I apologise for the wait, kind readers! I've been on vacation for a few weeks and I literally only got back a few hours ago, but I was desperate to put this up ASAP as I've had it finished for well over a week now.

As always, I cannot thank all of you enough for your kind reviews and support. Also, a massive thank you for being so patient with me! Enjoy!

******Disclaimer:** I do not own any Kingdom Hearts or Final Fantasy characters!

* * *

**Chapter Ten :: Fear**

"If you're Xehanort's daughter then just who is the girl that is travelling with Roxas?"

Xion said nothing in response, remaining unwavering even as Riku's formidable figure towered above her, casting a shadow over her small form. She glared openly at him, her lips set into a determined line, jaw clenching. Riku's response was more subtle; his shoulders tensed, hands curling into fists by his sides. Neither looked ready to back down.

The small gathering of people around them displayed varying levels of tension. Aqua had fallen silent following Riku's immediate rebuttal of her explanation and now watched on, pale faced, waiting to see what would be said next.

Ven looked distraught, clearly torn between automatically leaping to Xion's defence as he always had and staying quiet while the two of them battled it out. Serah merely observed, her eyebrows drawn into a thoughtful frown. Perhaps even _she_ was curious about the situation of the two Princesses.

Terra, in the meantime, had virtually reached the end of his emotional tether. He sighed heavily and dragged a hand across his face. His brother always had been the melodramatic type, but it didn't help matters that the Princess was even worse and stubborn to boot. He decided it was better to put an end to the drama before things escalated any further.

"Riku. Back off." He warned sharply. Reluctantly, his brother looked over at him, eyes narrowed. Immediately, Terra switched to a new tactic, realising that authority would do no good when it came to persuading him. "Look... Just— come on. Let's find a place to set up camp. We need to rest up before regrouping with the others."

Fortunately, Riku moved away from the girl but unfortunately, he didn't take the bait. Instead, he squared his shoulders. "First things first." He declared. "I want to know. _Who_ is the girl with Roxas? Because he's convinced she is the Princess and she hasn't yet attempted to correct him. So what the hell is going on?" His face darkened. "Is this all some elaborate trick set up by Xehanort?"

Xion snorted rudely, bringing their attention straight back to her. Ven stood protectively at her side, eyeing Riku distrustfully while the girl smirked, one hand toying with the beautiful sapphire necklace hanging at the base of her neck, holding herself in her usual superior manner. "I doubt he'd go through enough effort for that. It's not his style Trust me, it's no trick."

Before Riku could speak in retaliation, Aqua cut in. "She's right — it's not a trick. Xion _is_ Xehanort's daughter." She assured, gesturing vaguely to the Princess. "Naminé, the girl with Roxas is Xehanort's..." She searched for the right word. "..._ward_. He took her in when she was young. She probably thought that if she told your leader this he would have her killed as she is not the girl he was looking for."

Terra picked up on the subtle lie hidden behind those words, but said nothing to undermine her intentions. He trusted Aqua enough to know that there was a reason she was hiding something from them, he just hoped that she trusted him enough to, in due time, tell him what.

Riku, seemingly oblivious to her lie, looked offended by what she was implying, his frown evident. "Roxas wouldn't do that."

Aqua nodded agreeably, replying evenly in a placating tone, "I understand. But she doesn't know that. He _did_ kidnap her after all."

Terra's younger brother conceded to that much with a gentle incline of his head. "Alright. I guess I have no choice but to trust you. But that doesn't mean I trust _her_." He jerked his thumb unkindly towards Xion.

"I do believe the feeling is mutual, _rogue_." Xion muttered crassly to the ground, her bowed head hiding her distasteful scowl.

Terra noticed the muscle along the line of Riku's jaw tick irritably before stilling again and made the immediate assumption that he had overheard the Princess' mindless mutter but had chosen to ignore it.

"I take it _her highness_ will be accompanying us, seeing as she's travelled this far?" He sniffed, eyeing the boy standing closely to the girl, clearly waiting for him to object or make some plea in her favour. It appeared that Riku had picked up on Ven's protective nature towards Xion, as well. It was rather hard to miss.

Ven merely scowled, subtly herding the girl back towards their horse and away from him. Xion slapped at his arm, making some back-handed remark which Ven ignored, schooling a forced serene expression onto his features as he helped the girl back up into the saddle before swinging up behind her, his arms creating a protective cage around her as he took the reins.

Terra watched their interactions with something akin to an amused smile, glancing towards Aqua and Serah who were both also smiling at the duos antics as they followed their lead and climbed back up onto their own respective horse. He looked at each of them in turn and realised that his mind was made up and had been for some time. After all, how bad could _one_ Princess be?

He turned to Riku, shrugging lightly as he answered his question. "She'll be joining us, yes. I promised to protect them and I will." He smirked at the incredulous expression which appeared on his brother's face. "How bad can it be? We just need to meet back up with Roxas and the others and it'll all be fine."

Riku's expression became worried. "No, it won't. You're forgetting one thing, _brother_." He jerked his head pointedly towards the boy seated behind Xion.

Terra grasped his brother's upper arm tightly and shook it. "We'll discuss this later, but for now, don't say anything. He needs to find out for himself about Roxas." His gaze drifted to the boy who was preoccupied with the Princess. "He had a strange reaction when I said Roxas' name. I'm getting the impression that he doesn't remember…or maybe he can't. I don't want to trigger anything."

With a small amount of lingering irritation, his brother reluctantly nodded once in understanding. "Of course…" He prodded Terra's chest sharply. "But don't think this is the end of it. You still have a lot to explain."

"So do you, I believe." Terra responded, grinning. "For one; what you're doing out here, away from the others."

The solemn shadow in Riku's eyes faded away, replaced by joy. "Roxas was kind enough to let me stay behind. But that's a tale for later. Come on, I know somewhere we can camp. Perhaps we can talk there."

And then Riku was gone, leading the unlikely group of people to somewhere safe that they could rest. However, Terra was reluctant to follow.

The content feeling that had settled into his chest was suddenly chased from him as a horrible shiver rushed down his spine. He instantly whipped around, reaching for the sword that was no longer in its scabbard, having been discarded earlier during his encounter with his brother. His eyes furiously scanned the area, but he discovered no disturbance.

There was something out there, something dark. Aqua had given away as much earlier and now even _he_ could sense its strong presence. But what was it? And more importantly, where was it?

"Terra?"

He immediately snapped out of his trance, looking sharply towards the source of the voice. Aqua had backtracked astride their horse and was watching him, her face shadowed with worry.

He glanced back. The feeling had vanished. Confused, he offered the young woman a false smile and strode over to her side, reaching a hand up to brush hers briefly. The worry faded away from her face and was replaced with a light blush and a tiny smile.

"Is everything alright?" She asked after clearing her throat and fighting down the blush crawling across her cheeks.

Terra nodded once, retrieving his sword from where he had abandoned it. "Yes. Everything is fine." He looked up at her, the corner of his lips turning up. "Let's catch up to the others; we can set up camp and you can get some proper rest." He shrugged absently. "Who knows? Riku may even have some food. We haven't eaten in a while now."

Aqua chuckled in agreement, gently urging her horse onwards with a tight squeeze of her heels, slow enough so that Terra could keep up, but fast enough that they swiftly left the clearing behind them.

Her slight smile fell. Truthfully, she had only returned for him because she had felt that same disturbing sensation from earlier, like she was being watched from the shadows. Naturally, she had instantaneously looked to Ven and then for Terra, only to see him quite a way back, staring out into the trees uneasily, his hand groping at the empty air where his sword would usually be hanging.

Vanitas was getting bolder. He knew he was getting closer to reaching his goal. Aqua briefly closed her eyes. She was doing this for Ven, for Terra... If she could somehow ensure their survival, she didn't care what happened to her.

But even if she begged, even if she offered her life in exchange for theirs, she knew Vanitas would merely scoff at her. There was only one other option available to them — somehow, they would need to incapacitate Vanitas without him knowing it and without endangering any of her friends.

Aqua's shoulders slumped. It was impossible.

**····» **₪** «····**

After much going back and forth, Riku and Xion finally made an agreement of sorts on where they would be sleeping for the night.

The Princess had been adamant that she would be deciding she'd they slept and had complained when Terra had dismissed her plight. Of course, after much whining and nagging, he had given in, for the simple reason that his head was beginning to throb and his patience was drastically thinning. Riku wasn't happy, of course, but had managed to come to a compromise with the girl...somewhat.

The area they had chosen was surrounded by low hanging branches, plenty of ground cover and a nearby vantage point, per Riku's request. The ground, as per Xion's demands, was covered in thick, luscious grass and the trees overhead were parted to reveal the sky, which was now streaked with oranges, purples and pinks as the sun began to set.

By now, blankets and bed rolls were laid out in front of a crackling fire, over which a poor rabbit roasted. Surprisingly, it was Serah who had gutted and cleaned the animal after Riku had captured it, her face impassive as she wielded the knife with expert skill.

Everything was silent as they waited for their food, save for the odd grating sound Riku created as he sharpened his weapons with supreme accuracy and dedication. Terra lounged across from his brother, Aqua perched by his side, their hands a mere distance away from the other, fingers splayed in the dirt.

Serah was tending to the rabbit while sat next to Ven, who was watching Xion pace deliriously around their chosen camp in exasperation. His attempts to get her to sit down had failed and so he had taken to staring at her as she worked herself up into a frenzy.

"The ground is lumpy and infested with insects!" Xion burst out, recoiling with utter disgust as she caught sight of a worm wriggling through the grass. She screeched appallingly when an unfortunate spider scuttled close by to her feet, almost leaping up into the air out of fright as the creature disappeared into the undergrowth. "How on earth do you expect me to sleep on this? We must find somewhere else! This is _positively_ _primeval_!"

"We are _not_ moving again." Riku bit back through gritted teeth, sharpening his sword savagely, practically glaring holes into the whetstone. "However, if you'd rather, we can throw you on the fire. That might set off some nice sparks." He paused, an entirely feral grin appearing on his face. "No guarantee that it'd be comfortable though, perhaps a tad warm."

Xion turned an impressive glare on him, her voice venomous, "So gallant of you! I'm surprised you don't have Aqua here swooning at your feet!"

At this, both Aqua and Terra discreetly scooted away from one another, snatching their hands back. Xion, who hadn't noticed, made an exaggerated swooning gesture, throwing her hand against her forehead and letting out a high pitched sigh. "Your wit and charm is simply _astounding_."

The young man snorted disdainfully, lifting his sword up to catch the light of the fire by his feet, ignoring the deadly look she cast his way completely. "The fact that you _continue_ _to talk_ is astounding." He muttered.

"I beg your pardon?" She hissed, advancing on him with the grace of a wild animal.

"The rabbit's ready!" Serah suddenly declared, lifting the stick that had acted as a "spit", holding the thoroughly roasted animal up for all to see. The tension rising between the Xion and Riku melted away at the mention of food. Almost instantaneously, everyone was alert.

Serah removed the rabbit from the stick and began cutting it into sizable portions with the knife Terra had given her, ready to be handed out in the wooden plates Riku had provided. Ven eagerly stepped forward to help her, handing a plate to Aqua and then to Xion before taking one for himself.

Once the food had been equally distributed, everyone barring Xion thanked Serah and sat down around the fire to eat their meal in a comfortable silence. The Princess, however, stared down at the plate in her hands with obvious disgust, perching uncomfortably on the edge of her bed roll, not used to sitting so close to actual ground. "How am I supposed to eat this? Where's the cutlery?"

Terra looked up, a weary expression crossing his features. "You use your hands. Unless you haven't noticed—" He gestured grandly to their surroundings. "—we're living in the _wilderness_. We don't exactly carry around stuff we don't need, much less cutlery."

When Xion continued to sneer down at her food, Aqua set aside her plate and called up to her, "Just try it. It's really good. You're going to need to keep your strength up." She smiled hesitantly when the girl's gaze flicked towards her. "Go on, try it."

To the surprise of everyone present, she did, although with much complaining and grumbling. Apparently, she didn't like getting her hands dirty, but that was nothing new and Terra was already growing accustomed to it.

After dinner, Ven set about gathering up all of the used plates and handing them over to Aqua who piled them up beside her so that they could be washed later in a nearby river, while Serah added more wood to the fire and made an attempt to entertain a bored Xion. Terra was lying on his bed roll and staring up at the darkening sky, his thoughts drifting aimlessly through his mind.

The sky was the same. It always was. He remembered when he was younger, he would sneak out into the courtyard at night, just to lie down and stare up at the stars littering the dark blanket hanging high above him, immovable and constant. He would look up at them and feel small, like an irrelevant ant trampled beneath a person's boot.

This feeling of smallness continued to grow after his father explained to him that the stars in the sky represented other worlds, other dimensions and that they were all connected, linked together by the same bright, never-ending sky. Until recently, he'd never truly understood what his father had meant. And now he felt smaller than ever.

The sound of a rustle followed by a quiet thud somewhere to his left broke him out of his reverie. Sighing inwardly, he propped himself up on his elbows, looking over at Riku with an expectant expression. His brother was sitting quite innocently on the ground beside him, also staring up at the sky, toying with the dagger that had been gifted to him on his tenth birthday between his expert hands. He'd been waiting to get him alone, so he could interrogate him and Terra was forced to oblige. He had promised to offer up an explanation, after all.

"I told you this wasn't over." Riku pointed out sardonically, flicking the dagger up into the air and catching it effortlessly between his fingers. "You've got some explaining to do. But… I suppose I should go first, hm? I have a feeling my tale is a lot less complicated than yours."

Terra snorted.

"After you were taken, Roxas began planning ways to get you back after he found out that you were to be executed. He sent Axel and Larxene to kidnap the Princess, but obviously, they kidnapped the wrong one." Riku shot him a smirk. "They brought her back to camp and then Roxas moved onto stage two. He was going to use the girl as a bargaining chip; that was the whole idea of taking her in the first place."

"He left her behind and took Saïx, Axel, Palom and I to the square where we were supposed to create a diversion and rescue you. But…things went wrong. Everything was out of control, Roxas said he saw you and Serah get away, but the guards were closing in on us, so we had to flee." He ran a weary hand over his face, speaking through his fingers, "I was worried; I had no idea where you were, but Roxas assured me that you would be fine. And then we got back to the camp, which is where things got even worse."

"We were compromised after a kidnapping attempt on the Princess the following day, so we had to move. Just a few hours ago we came across Lightning, received supplies and readied to move on, but Roxas allowed me to stay behind, so that I could wait for you." He looked up finally, a small smile appearing on his face.

"A lot has happened, I see." Terra mused, absorbing the information carefully, examining every detail. "It might take us at least another day to catch up to everyone… But with the way the Princess has been complaining, it may take us even longer than that."

His expression soon became stern. "Speaking of the Princess; it's your turn to explain. The girl — who is she? And what on earth is she even doing here?"

The older brother sighed. Riku was never the sort to beat about the bush. He scraped a hand through his hair, considering his answer thoughtfully. "I guess she followed us— well, Ven I mean. She wasn't very happy when she realised he intended to leave her behind. By the time she revealed herself her presence to us, it was too late to turn back and escort her home... So I allowed her to stay, provided she doesn't put us in any immediate danger." He shrugged nonchalantly, tipping his head back.

His brother snorted, shaking his head. "'Provided'? Terra, she's Xehanort's _daughter_; she'll get us all killed. You should have sent her away." He sheathed his knife, frowning across at the girl who was scowling at the ground by her feet, ignoring Serah's attempts to converse with her. He breathed out heavily. "Never mind... I guess we're stuck with her now."

Riku's gaze was pulled away as Ven and Aqua stood, their arms piled high with dirty plates in need of washing. "Oh, look; another person of interest." He glared half-heartedly at Terra. "Care to tell me what's going on there?"

"Your guess is as good as mine." Terra muttered, watching the pair with feigned indifference. "It's obvious there's some connection between him and Roxas, but if that's the case, then how come we haven't heard of him before? Roxas wouldn't hide something as big as this."

Riku nodded in agreement. "My thoughts exactly. Roxas has only ever mentioned his past once or twice before, but never anything about a _brother_." He leaned back on his elbows, staring thoughtfully at the boy. "It's strange. They look so alike. I dread to think how they will react when they finally meet." Riku paused, frowning slightly. "You said that Ven doesn't know about Roxas? That he doesn't 'remember'? How is that possible?"

The older brother fell back onto his bed roll with a huff, hands interlaced behind his head. "I don't _know_, Riku." He muttered exasperatedly. "I haven't personally spoken to the kid. He's particularly suspicious of me."

"Well, perhaps you _should_ speak with him." Riku replied, flopping down beside him, elbowing his brother meaningfully. "As you pointed out, we are stuck with them now."

Terra grumbled something unintelligible under his breath, dropping his head back and throwing his hands over his face. How was he supposed to speak with someone who put in a conscious effort to avoid him at every turn?

**····» **₪** «····**

As soon as Xion was occupied, Ven made his escape, trusting Serah — who reminded him so strongly of Aqua — to watch over her.

After collecting up the empty plates, he handed them to Aqua, who wordlessly piled them up beside the fire. She looked up at him and smiled in invitation, patting the ground beside her.

He smiled weakly in return and sat down next to his best friend, his feet kicking up a small cloud of dust. He leaned back on his elbows, eyes closed, his limbs becoming heavy. It had been a long day and certainly felt more stressful than his usual daily routine back at the castle. Perhaps this was what the fugitive life held in store for him. If so, he didn't like it.

He hated how negative he had become over the last day and a half. Not only did he have to deal with the present and the issues that had arisen with it, but his past too; it was something that had been clouding his mind ever since he heard Terra call him by that weird, oddly familiar name. For some reason, it hurt to think about it and so, he tried not to. He let out a sigh.

Aqua looked over at the boy slumped beside her, his head tipped back in a gesture of exhaustion and reached over, ruffling his hair affectionately. "You're handling this pretty well, considering." She noted calmly.

"So are you, considering." He murmured, smiling wryly as he leaned into her touch like a small child would, eyes still shut.

A relaxed silence fell between them as Aqua withdrew her hand, neither having anything more to say. After a while, Ven reopened his eyes and discreetly surveyed the young woman beside him.

The small smile which had been present on her face not moments ago had melted away, her lips pulled into a thin, desperate line. He'd been around Aqua long enough by now to know when something was bothering her, and more importantly, when she was scared.

Normally, he'd be the first to say that Aqua wasn't the type to scare easy — she was strong, kind-hearted and had a genuine goodness about her, but following recent events, he'd begun to notice that she was a little more jumpy than usual. Even now, despite her attempts to appear cheerful, her face was pale and drawn out, her forehead furrowed into an ever-present frown. Her hands shook in her lap and she flinched at the smallest of sounds, her eyes darting towards the shadows surrounding their camp. He didn't like it. He didn't understand what could have made her so frightened.

Ven reached a hand out to her, patting her arm experimentally. As expected, she jerked at his touch, head snapping towards him. When her gaze landed on his face, she relaxed and resettled her hands, clearing her throat apologetically.

His felt his concern for her sky-rocket. "Aqua, what's wrong?"

She shook her head mutely, staring straight into the fire.

Ven straightened immediately at her silence, his eyes wide. "Aqua..."

She shook her head again, more vigorously. "Not here." She murmured, turning her imploring gaze on him.

Ven blinked owlishly at her for a long moment, before reaching for the plates stacked by her feet. He stood up and innocently tipped his head to the side, "Help me wash up?"

Aqua looked from the plates to his face and then towards where Terra was sprawled before standing also, holding her hands out to take the plates from him, only to have him refuse.

He grinned a little at her put out expression. "Nuh-uh. You talk, I clean the plates." Ven shoved one of his hands towards her, still grinning like a fool. "Deal?"

A genuine smile appeared on her face and she reached out to shake his hand. "Deal."

Satisfied, Ven altered his grip on the plates and headed towards the stream they had passed on their way to their camping spot. Once they reached it, he immediately dropped to his knees and dunked the plates into the running water, using an old rag to wipe them clean, tipping his head in Aqua's direction expectantly.

Eventually, after a long pause which dragged out between them, Aqua spoke in a hushed voice, "I feel as though something…dangerous is following us, something dark."

He paused in his movements, his eyes darting towards the dense forestry surrounding them, feeling strangely uneasy all of a sudden. Truth be told, he had been feeling slightly odd in the forest since they had escaped the safety of the castle walls, like there was a heavy presence hanging over their heads. Of course, he'd dismissed this notion and the sensation had eventually faded, but at Aqua's words, it returned full force. He shifted uncomfortably. "I… I kind of feel the same way. Is that what's bothering you?"

Aqua knelt down beside him, her eyes darkening. "Yes. And it has been since we left." She locked gazes with him, her voice lowering even further, "I know it's out there, Ven. We need to be ready, for whatever's coming for us."

Ven stared at her, scarcely daring to look away, out of fear for what he might glimpse in the looming darkness. "What do you mean, you 'know'?"

Her expression became pained, her lips trembling. It was then he realised that she was hiding something worse from him, something a lot more than she was ever going to let on. And whatever it was, it was scaring her to death.

After removing the now clean plates from the water, Ven twisted to face her and threw his arms around her in a tight, yet comforting embrace. "You're not alone, Aqua." He said softly, "You know that, right? So, it's okay. It's okay to hurt, or even to be scared every now and then."

Aqua let out a noise that sounded caught between a laugh and a sob. "Using my own words against me, hm?" She teased, pulling back from him and flicking his nose gently.

He swatted her hand away with a carefree grin. "I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."

This time, Aqua laughed for real and he joined in, the plates and their concerns regarding the mysterious entity following them long since forgotten.

Across the river, a pair of amber eyes gleamed in the darkness; watching, waiting.

**····» **₪** «····**

Shortly before they left the strained company of Lightning and her men, the outlaws were gifted with extra supplies for their journey, as promised. Naminé was eternally thankful to discover that these supplies were also extended to her. Inside her old potato sack, there was an extra set of clothes waiting inside, as well as some food and a belt fashioned to hold a weapon. Of course, she would have no need for a weapon, so the belt remained in the sack along with the spare clothes. Most of the food — the apples and bread in particular — was eaten as soon as she received them.

Once everybody had saddled up and eaten their fill, they prepared to leave. Lightning stopped by to wish them a final farewell, or in her case, a final warning.

"These men and women are good people." She had murmured. "Do not let me hear that any of them come to harm because of you, or you will live to regret it." And with those words said, she had disappeared back into camp.

Naminé had tried not to dwell on Lightning's parting words, but they weighed heavily on her mind. She knew that attempting to leave was futile, but she knew that if she stayed only bad things would happen and not just to those around her, but herself, too. It was a vicious cycle.

"Well, hey there, Princess."

Startled, Naminé reflexively yanked on her reins, causing her horse to neigh irritably. When several of the outlaws around her turned to stare, she felt her face heat up with embarrassment. She muttered a quiet apology to her horse partnered with a gentle pat and glanced over at the person who had alarmed her so badly.

The redhead who had played a rather large part in her kidnapping sat astride a beautiful chestnut horse had pulled up alongside her, grinning childishly at her.

She squinted at the reverse tear-drop markings beneath his eyes, her nose wrinkling. Was that paint? Or was it something more permanent? And what on earth were they there for? "Axel, right?" She queried hesitantly.

His grin, if at all possible, widened and he reached up to tap his temple, "Yeah. Get it memorised."

"Um..." Naminé blinked. What a strange man…

Axel dismissed her reaction with a casual wave of his hand, his carefree expression never faltering. "Anyway, how are you holding up? You seem to be taking this pretty well, the whole kidnapping thing, Roxas being his usual grouchy self and so far..." He trailed off, waggling his eyebrows at her. "…no escape attempts! I'm impressed."

"Oh, believe me; I have considered it several times already." She muttered sarcastically.

He cocked his head to the side, scrutinising her with his impossibly green eyes. "Thought better of it, eh?"

"I suppose you could put it that way." Naminé sighed, reaching up to tug on a lock of hair which always stuck out at a ridiculous angle, no matter what she tried to do with it.

For a moment, the rode on in silence, but for Naminé it was far from comfortable. She felt as though there was something unsaid hanging in the air between them, and judging by the odd glances he shot in her direction, she was correct. It soon reached a point where she could take the strange looks no longer. Frustrated, she turned to him, "What is it?"

He flailed and sharply looked away from her, scratching at his head awkwardly. "Nothing, I was just…" He let out an irritated noise, pinching the bridge of his nose. "What…what do you think of Roxas?"

"What?" She blurted, unable to comprehend his reasoning. That was not what she had been expecting at all. Perhaps a question about her childhood, or what it was like to live with that horrible man who caused such devastation, but not that. Why was he even asking her something so trivial?

"What do you think of Roxas?" Axel pressed. "Do you like him?"

"Like h—" She cut herself off, stopping herself from saying something she would most likely regret. Naminé pondered over her answer for a moment. What did she think of him? Not a whole lot. Just that he was unlike anyone she had ever met, not to mention he was utterly infuriating. "Well I don't completely hate him…"

"Well, I suppose that's a start." Axel laughed, winking at her.

Naminé stared at him for a long time. She'd never met anybody like him — or any of the other outlaws — before. He seemed to make a conscious effort to seek her out and talk to her like a real human being and furthermore, he seemed to enjoy her company.

Before Aqua, she had lived a sheltered, lonely life where nobody had wanted to be around her and now, all of a sudden, she was being offered opportunities to _talk_ and _willingly interact_ with other people. They had showed her kindness, offered her shelter and food and company. She could make amends, perhaps even befriend these people, couldn't she? She could return the favour, couldn't she?

Hesitantly, she called out to him, "Hey…Axel?"

He grunted lazily in response.

She wrapped the reins around her hands self-consciously, looking anywhere but at him. "I...suppose I should apologise for the other day." She mumbled, ducking her head. "For head-butting you..."

Axel brightened, letting out a jovial laugh. "Oh! No biggy. Larxene's hit me harder before now." When she looked over at him abruptly, he smirked shamelessly. "Besides, we did kinda kidnap you." His expression became apologetic. "Sorry about that, but orders are orders."

Naminé raised an eyebrow at that, studying him with the same scrutiny he had with her. "Do you always follow _his_ orders?"

Axel grinned wolfishly across at her, shrugging innocently. "More or less."

His amused expression faded unexpectedly as something diverted Axel's attention to the front of their group. He straightened in his saddle, instantly alert. All of a sudden, he yanked on his reins and brought his horse to a halt, before leaning across and forcing her to do the same.

Naminé's initial reaction was to snap at him and demand and explanation for such hasty behaviour, but the oddly serious look on his face kept her quiet. Curiously, she craned her neck to peer beyond the line of people on horseback in an attempt to see what has caused such a commotion.

Roxas had stopped, his head tilted to the side as if listening for something unseen. His entire body had gone rigid, practically rippling with apprehension.

A split second later, his hand shot out for his sword, a shout tearing from his throat, "_It's an amb_—!"

Without a word of warning, an arrow shot through the air and punctured Roxas' torso, cutting him off mid-sentence. For a moment, time seemed to slow; then Roxas fell from his horse and everything descended into chaos.

Someone started screaming. Perhaps it was herself, Naminé couldn't tell, but in the next instant she was tackled from her saddle and sent hurtling to the ground by a red blur. Axel threw himself over her, shouting out to those around him, pulling out his own sword as a swarm of people flooded onto the path.

Horses — along with their supplies — were scattered, their riders having dismounted to jump into the throng of people who had leapt down from the trees. Weapons clashed furiously, metal screeching on metal. Shouts and battle cries could be heard, along with the terrible thuds of bodies falling to the ground. The tangy scent of copper she knew so well instantly filled the air. Axel's warm presence hovered above her, but she could only just feel slight weight of his body shielding her own.

The screaming — her own, she realised now — had stopped. She lay sprawled on the ground, cheek pressed into the earth, her breath visible in the cold autumn air. She was barely aware of Axel rolling off her and pulling her to her feet, yelling something over the raucous noise, his face swimming in front of her own. She couldn't think straight. Everything felt so distant, too far away, like she was underwater... Drowning...

"—out of it, or so help me I'll—!"

Axel was speaking. He sounded desperate now, but angry. Naminé tried to focus on his face, her concentration wavering as she tried to tear her thoughts away from the grisly sight of the arrow's shaft sticking out from Roxas' chest.

He looked concerned, definitely angry and perhaps even fearful. Once her eyes focused on him, he marginally relaxed. "Thank God. I was afraid I was going to have to hit you or something." She opened her mouth to respond, but he cut her off by shoving her into a nearby bush. "Stay low and out of sight. When this is over, I'll find you."

"What…what about…" Naminé choked, unable to speak his name.

Axel said nothing, but his face was grim. He fumbled for something on his belt, his frustration showing as he began cursing in a language she hadn't heard before. After yanking the item free, he shoved it towards her. "Take this, so you can protect yourself."

In his hand was a cruel looking dagger with a red jewel pressed into its hilt. She hesitated. Tired of waiting, Axel hastily grabbed her arms and pushed the knife into her reluctant hands, forcibly wrapping her fingers around its hilt. "Now stay here!" He ordered needlessly.

Before Naminé could object, before she could protest that she was not ready, he had darted back out into the fight, sneaking up behind an unsuspecting enemy and running him through. Now alone, Naminé leaned back against the tree behind her, fingers curled around the knife. She stared straight ahead, her thoughts in complete disarray as she struggled against herself.

All she could think about, all she could see when she closed her eyes, was the arrow sailing through the air and impaling the young man who had both ordered her kidnapping and saved her life.

She should stay; she knew she should. She should do as Axel had said and wait, wait to continue on their journey to goodness knows where, like she had been told. At least then she'd know for a fact that she was as far away from Xehanort as she could manage and that she was as safe as she could be. Well, that was the theory, providing she wasn't captured or killed in the process.

But something was niggling persistently at the back of her mind, telling her that she should be doing something more than just hiding behind a bush, waiting for the inevitable.

The sound of someone yelling and screeching of metal on metal seemed to grow louder and louder. Terrified, Naminé jerked forwards, dropping the knife into the dirt by her feet. Shakily, she picked it up, almost snagging her fingers on the sharp edge in her haste. The dreadful noise continued, joined by even more shouting and screeching as the fight escalated.

She hugged her arms to her chest, pressing herself against the tree as the sounds raged on until she could bear it no longer. Naminé pulled away from the tree, still hidden by the low hanging branches and overgrown bushes, her hands still clutched to her chest, the knife aimed away from her. She began to edge closer to the noise, instead of away from it, her irrational fear for being left alone in the surrounding dense forestry overriding her desperation to escape, to live.

The screeching and clanging and scraping seemed to grow louder and louder until it attacked her from all sides, the yells and cries and strangled gasps filling the short bursts of silence between. Pushing aside a prickly branch, Naminé peered into the clearing and immediately wished she hadn't.

A horrible, sickly feeling settled in the pit of her stomach as she stared out at the bloody scene. The ground was painted red, bodies strewn about the place, arrows sticking out of their sides or large chunks missing from their heads. Armour, swords and shields lay forgotten, battered, broken and bent out of shape beside the corpses of their owners.

Amidst the chaos, the outlaw's fought. Not a single one of them had yet been cut down, but some were obviously injured. Despite this, their movement's fluid and neat, as if fighting as a singular indestructible unit. There were less than a dozen enemies remaining, each armed to the teeth, looking as formidable as the next, and yet Roxas' men simply mowed them into the ground.

She couldn't see Porom in the mayhem from where she was sat, but she easily spotted Zexion fighting gracefully alongside a clumsy Demyx who was smacking his enemies with a large bat-like weapon. The poor boy looked just as terrified as she felt, his uncoordinated, sloppy movements creating more chaos than solutions in their predicament. More often than not, he spent his time being tugged out of harm's way by an exasperated Zexion, whose exhaustion was beginning to show.

It was then, while scanning the scene before her, that she saw him. Several feet away from her, Roxas was dragging himself towards the surrounding trees, one hand clamped around the arrow sticking out of his torso. His pale, sickly coloured face was contorted with pain, his chest rising and falling in short bursts as he clearly struggled to breathe. He didn't even notice one of the men who had attacked them break off from the rest, stalking wordlessly towards him, sword raised.

Naminé was frozen in place. She didn't know what to do. What should she do? She could warn someone… _But who would get to him in time?_

She looked around at the outlaws.

By now, Zexion was practically sagged against a weary Demyx, while Luxord rushed to cover them as they caught their breath, his swings wild and unchecked. Larxene was fighting back savagely against her enemies with her lethal throwing knives, but seemed to have lost her edge, letting out a string of profanities whenever she missed her target. Marluxia, who up until that point had been a wall of deadly strength, neither tiring nor showing any signs of slowing down, was now retreating back to Larxene's side, feebly fending off oncoming blows.

Saïx and Axel seemed to be the only two who weren't left disjointed by the sudden onslaught and were easily taking everything in their stride as they fought closely, back to back, moving as one. Naminé only caught the odd glimpse of Palom and Porom as they weaved in and out of their allies and enemies, quick as a flash, firing spells in every direction, Palom's triumphant laughter ringing out across the clearing.

The dagger in her hands felt heavy. It looked like it was up to her. He'd saved her before; why couldn't she save him? At least then, whatever debt there was between them would be settled. She would no longer owe him anything.

The man was almost upon him; she had to act now.

Without a second thought, she darted out into the midst of the battle, stumbling over her own feet as she forced herself to run as fast as she had ever done before. She leapt over a fallen body, not pausing to look at their dead face, knowing that she'd see a pair of glassy, cold eyes staring back at her.

The man was standing over him. Roxas looked up, teeth bared as he groped for his sword. The attacker raised his weapon to finish him off, but Naminé was, miraculously, quicker.

She ran into the man with a yell, physically shivering when the blade sank into the flesh of his lower back with a sickening sound. He let out a howl of pain and fell to his knees as she sprung away from him, his hand grappling for the dagger embedded in his skin. Seizing his chance, Roxas tore his sword free and forced himself up, driving his weapon through the man's chest.

The attacker twitched uncontrollably, convulsing hands wrapping around the sword's hilt. He gaped up at the sky before toppling back, his eyes seeing no more.

Naminé dropped to her knees with a sob, clutching her shaking hands to her face. She had just helped kill a man. _She had just helped kill another human being._

She shuddered, hands gripping at her face, fingernails digging into the soft skin of her cheeks, only to be brought back to reality by a wet sounding cough. She looked up sharply, meeting Roxas' glassy gaze with wide eyes of her own. With a gasp, she scrambled to his side, ignoring the red sticky substance pooled around his body, tears streaking her pale cheeks.

Immediately, her gaze was drawn to the wooden shaft protruding from his chest and the surrounding area, which was stained red with his own blood. She trembled, forcing herself to look away as her stomach lurched. "I-I don't know what to do…" She whispered fearfully, her hands fluttering uselessly by his shoulders. "I don't know what to do!"

He shook his head slowly, his breath slipping past his lips in short, strained puffs. He clenched his eyes shut, reaching one of his hands towards her, "…Get…Porom…"

She whipped her head around in search of the young woman just as the final assailant was struck down. The outlaws were exhausted, blood streaking their faces and weapons, many of them leaning on each other for support.

Larxene had a wound across her back, but she was shrugging off Marluxia's help with a low growl and a sharp mutter. Zexion had a large gash spanning from his right shoulder and down across his torso, which was being healed by a solemn looking Palom. Demyx hovered by him, a continuous apology pouring from his mouth, his eyes watery. Luxord had a cut above his eyebrow as well as across his cheek, but he didn't seem to notice; he merely wiped away any grime that fell into his eyes with the corner of his tunic. Axel's elbow seemed to be dislocated and Saïx was holding his left hand oddly, looking as though he'd broken several bones in his fingers.

She soon found who she was looking for, hovering at the edge of the group and nursing a nasty looking bump to the head.

_"Porom!"_

**····» **₪** «····**

Not a sound came from the tent where Palom and Porom, accompanied by Saïx, worked feverishly to save the life of their commander. Not a sound came from the rest of the outlaws as they retrieved the remaining runaway horses and set up a temporary camp surrounding the healing tent.

Not even Axel spoke from where he sat beside the despondent, traumatised Princess.

Her hands were red raw from all of the scrubbing and scratching in her attempts to remove Roxas' blood from her skin. Her face, still pale, had also been scoured and scrubbed to remove her tears. In her lap lay the cursed dagger which she had reluctantly pulled from the corpse of the man she had helped kill. She didn't know how she felt — everything was so jumbled up, so confused. All she knew was that she couldn't get it out of her head — the terrible scream when she'd stabbed that man; the look on his face when he fell; the blood surrounding Roxas; the nauseating sight of that horrible wound… But above all else, Lightning's words came back to haunt her.

_"Do not let me hear that any of them come to harm because of you, or you will live to regret it."_

She wanted to throw up. She felt as though it was her fault in some way.

All of a sudden, someone placed something warm and soft around her shoulders. She flinched, looking sharply up at Zexion's worn face. The entire right side of his shoulder and torso was bandaged, as Palom had only had so much time to heal it before he was called off to help his sister with Roxas, but he didn't seem to mind. He offered her a tiny smile as he sat down beside her, although it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Have you eaten anything?" He asked gently after a beat of silence, his eyes flicking between the Princess and Axel.

When it became apparent that Naminé wasn't going to speak, or make any attempt to respond to him, the redhead sighed, "No, she hasn't. I can't get her to even try anything."

Zexion looked down at the girl beside him with obvious concern. "Naminé, you need to eat, even if it's only something small." He fished out an apple from his own sack gifted to him by Lightning and offered it to her. "After what you've just been through, you need to keep your strength up; you'll waste away."

That's right. She'd killed someone, hadn't she? Or in the very least, she'd helped. At every turn, she was being reminded of her pain, of her ordeal… With a shudder, she shook her head and pushed it away, even at his insistence. "I do not want it."

With a defeated glance in her direction, Zexion placed it in the small space beside them. He met Axel's gaze, who shook his head.

Naminé pretended not to have noticed his look of concern and pulled the blanket around her even tighter, her thoughts overriding her senses. She couldn't deny it; when she had saved him from that man and seen up close just what damage had been done to him, she had felt truly afraid for Roxas. Until that point, he had seemed so strong, so immovable and so infuriating… But in that moment, he was pale, unmoving, on the brink of death. It made her chest ache to see him like that, to know that there was nothing she could do to help him.

She might have rescued him, but she hadn't saved him from death.

Now all they had to do was put their faith in the twins and wait. They had to hope that it would be enough. They had to hope that when that tent opened, that bad news wouldn't be there to greet them. Naminé didn't know what to expect.

It felt like several hours had passed before Saïx finally opened the tent and staggered out into the camp, his face haggard, clothes still stained with dried blood. By that point, everyone had pretty much gathered around it, even Larxene and Marluxia, who were watching the tent entrance expectantly, wearing twin scowls.

Saïx was met by the hopeful, yet fearful faces of his group, waiting desperately to hear news — to hear anything about their commander and his condition.

Everything was still and quiet for a long period of time, a silence that none of them even dared to break.

Relief spread across Saïx's tired face. "He's going to be alright..."

It seemed as though the air suddenly rushed back into their lungs. Axel leaped to his feet and launched himself at Saïx, swinging his arm around the man's shoulders and muttering something unintelligible to him, his face joyous. Zexion closed his eyes, lips moving in perhaps a silent prayer. Demyx let out a cry of relief and slumped against Luxord, while the blond breathed out wearily, scrubbing a hand across his face. Larxene and Marluxia's expressions barely changed, their eyes reflecting their true, hidden emotions.

Only Naminé remained outwardly unaffected, her hands clutching at the blanket draped over her form. Inside her head, she kept repeating Saïx's words to herself, over and over; _he's going to be alright… He's going to be alright… He's going to be alright…_

She was thankful, relieved even. It looked like she had saved him, after all.

There was a swish of fabric and Palom exited the tent also, his hands and lower arms covered in blood, leaning heavily on his staff for support. His face was grey and worn, dark circles framing his once lively eyes. He looked around for a short moment before waving a weary hand at her. "Hey, Princess!"

Naminé blinked at him, head tilted in a wordless question.

The young man jerked his head towards the tent. "He's awake and he wants to see you."

For a second time that that, she was frozen. What would he do? What would he say? What would _she_ say? She didn't even have chance to wonder as Porom strode over to her and yanked her up to her feet, dragging her towards the tent, his grip on her upper arm surprisingly strong considering his blatant fatigue. The dagger which had been in her lap fell to the ground, forgotten.

"He's exhausted, but he says he won't rest until he speaks to you." Porom rolled his eyes, only an echo of the gesture's usual sarcasm present. "So don't make him wait." He gave her a gentle shove towards the entrance.

Naminé hesitated, glancing back at the outlaws dotted around the small camp, briefly meeting Zexion's gaze. He inclined his head encouragingly and that was all she needed. She ducked under the sheet covering the entrance to the tent and stepped inside.

Instantly, the pungent coppery scent of blood mixed with a kind of rubbing alcohol washed over her senses. She immediately noticed that several candles had been lit and placed around the tent on various surfaces to provide light. Porom, who was standing by a wooden basin to the right, cleaning her hands in the water, looked up when she walked in. Her face, just like her brother, was pale and haggard, showing obvious signs of exhaustion. However, she managed to smile brightly at her, turning away to dry her hands before walking over to the entrance.

"We've done the best we can, but he's still very weak." Porom informed her, casting a worried look towards the back of the tent where a large makeshift bed stood. "He insisted on seeing you, did you know that?" The young woman's gaze turned on her. "He says you saved him."

Naminé looked away, uncomfortable under her scrutiny.

Porom placed a gentle hand on her arm. "I can't imagine how you must be feeling right now. To go through what you did…" She shook her head miserably. "You were very brave."

"Leave us, Porom. I wish to speak with her alone."

The young woman looked abruptly towards the source of the voice and sighed, squeezing Naminé's arm in a gesture of comfort. "I'll be just outside if you need me." She murmured, her eyes warm and inviting.

Naminé managed a disjointed nod as the woman dropped her hand and exited the tent, leaving her alone with him.

"Come closer." His voice was soft, tired, yet entirely commanding.

Cautiously, she stepped closer to the bed, dreading what she might see. Nothing could have prepared her for the sight of a bare chested Roxas lying underneath a mound of sheets pulled up to his waist, his torso heavily bandaged. Unsurprisingly, his face was just as pale as the twins, although his eyes were bright, scrutinising her with the same intensity she was becoming used to.

She felt her shoulders sag with relief. She didn't know what she had been expecting; but definitely not this. Perhaps she had been expecting a lot more blood and a gaping hole where his chest should be. Thankfully, the wound was covered and there was no sign of the blood that caked Palom's arms. He looked almost _healthy_.

"You…seem to be recovering well." Naminé murmured, dropping her gaze and avoiding all eye contact with him. She had not spoken with him since they were back at Lightning's camp, which felt like a life time ago, but the awkwardness that had been present then still lingered even now.

Roxas sighed, carefully shifting himself into a more upright position, relying solely on his elbows to keep him from toppling back. Naminé raised an eyebrow at him, knowing all too well that moving into such a position while he was still injured was not a wise move. He ignored her reproaching look, rolling his eyes at her.

"I'm healing a lot quicker than I would have done, thanks to Palom and Porom." He began calmly, his voice slightly scratchy from disuse. "That being said…" He paused and pursed his lips, purposefully not meeting her eyes. "If it weren't for you, I guess there wouldn't be anything of me left to heal."

She didn't quite know what to say to that. To her, it seemed like it was a very ambiguous way of him thanking her for what she did, even if the words weren't actually said. But if she was completely honest with herself, there wasn't anything to thank. She was glad to have done what she did, but if faced with the same decision again, she wasn't sure if she could carry through with it. Her hands were still shaking, the memories still raw.

And so, she remained silence, acknowledging him with a curt nod of her head, unable to bring herself to do anything else.

"_However_…"

Her head snapped up, eyes instantly narrowing at the sharp tone of his voice.

"What you did was foolish and rash." He muttered angrily, his face contorted into a frown. "Do you not realise that you could have easily been captured? Or worse, you could have been _killed_!" Roxas massaged the bridge of his nose, exhaling slowly. "What you did is not something to be taken lightly. You needlessly put yourself at risk."

Despite everything, Naminé felt her blood begin to boil. Clenching her hands into fists by her sides, she ground out, "I saved your life, did I not? If I had not decided to intervene, you would be dead. Or does that count for _nothing_?"

Roxas glared at her. Even bedridden, he still managed to look incredibly intimidating. "And you mean to tell me that my life would have mattered to you if you had been captured or killed?" He tried to push himself up into a fully upright position, his face full of anger, only to flinch and let out a groan, a hand flying to his chest.

Panicking, Naminé reached out and wrapped an arm around him for support, easing his weakened form back down. "Palom and Porom said you are still weak." She snapped irritably. "Stop being stubborn and rest. You do not want to injure yourself any further."

"And now you are bossing me around." Roxas muttered sourly, crossing his arms as best he could considering his condition, much like a bratty child would. "You may have saved my life; that does not mean you get to—"

With a huff, Naminé abruptly removed her arm, allowing him to fall back the rest of the way, successfully cutting him off mid-sentence. He let out a loud growl of pain as he collided with the mattress, but she dutifully ignored him. Even now, severely injured to the point of near death, he had the nerve to talk down to her in such a manner. He was never going to change.

"Ow." Roxas hissed through gritted teeth, clutching at his bandages. After the pain had subsided, he let his head flop back against the pillows, a sigh whooshing past his lips. There was a beat of silence before he spoke again, "Porom says I'll never be the same."

He looked up at her, his expression horribly blank. She bit down on her lip to stop herself from flinching. "She told me…that I will always have a scar — which is to be expected — but there's a very strong chance that it will continue to bring me pain for the remainder of my life. Other than that, I'll live." Roxas laughed bitterly. "I should be lucky that the guy who hit me was a bad shot. Considering I was a stationary target and he was aiming for the heart; he missed."

She stared at him, both horrified and dumbstruck by his dismissal regarding his injury. "_'Lucky'_?" She repeated, her voice shrill. "How was that _lucky_? You almost died! You would have done if I hadn't…" She trailed off, shaking her head to rid herself of the thought. "Who were they anyway? The men who attacked us…"

Roxas shrugged carelessly. "Bandits, outlaws, criminals… Take your pick." He made a vague gesture, his lip curling with distaste. "They roam these wild parts, they have ever since Xehanort attacked. It would be impossible for Eraqus to have regained complete control of his Realm just yet, so criminal activity is pretty common among the low lands and the forest."

Naminé wrung her hands together, entwining her fingers. "So...they were not connected to Xehanort?" She asked uncertainly.

He smiled grimly at her. "No. But I am sure they are out there somewhere." He shifted himself slightly, grimacing, a hand pressed to his chest. "They just haven't found us yet."

The weight of his words was not lost on her. They were out there, searching for her and eventually, they would find her. It was only a matter of time. The mere thought frightened her. What if she was faced with another ordeal like today?

Unbeknownst to her, Roxas had been watching her face to see her reaction to this news. When her face paled, her eyes staring at nothing, he reached out and placed a hand on her lower arm. "You do not have to worry — we will protect you." He said confidently.

Naminé stared down at the hand on her arm, where it lingered for a very long time. She didn't want to be protected. She wanted to be able to protect herself. It wasn't until that moment that she realised just how much she needed that — to know that her life was in her own hands and to know that she would not have to worry about being rescued, or looked after.

She didn't get a chance to ask him what she so desperately wanted to as Palom came sweeping in, followed by his weary looking sister, abruptly ending any and all conversation between them. "Alright, enough talk. You need to rest."

The warm presence of his hand on her arm abruptly disappeared, leaving her feeling confused and slightly self-conscious. That had been too intimate — considering their status, the fact that she was a young woman and the fact that he was clearly delusional in some shape or form due to his condition made his actions all the more...unacceptable. She had to keep distance between her and this young man, not because he distracted her, or because he affected her judgement, but because her stay with them was only temporary — that much had been made clear. She couldn't afford to get too attached to any of them. Or, at least, that's what she kept telling herself.

Roxas scowled openly at the young man who had interrupted them, apparently unaffected by having been caught in such a compromising position. "I'm perfectly fine. I am recovering well — you said so yourself."

This time Porom spoke, frowning at him, "You sustained an _arrow_ to the chest. You are not going to be 'perfectly fine' for a while yet, even with our healing." She shot him a reproaching look when he dared to grumble something obscene under his breath. "Besides, you're not the only one who needs rest. Naminé has been through a lot today, too."

All eyes landed on her. The girl squirmed uncomfortably under the scrutiny, struggling to maintain her proud posture. She hated the assumptions that she was weak, that she needed protection; that she needed to be looked after. Whether or not it was true, it wasn't something she liked to be made known. Above all else, she was a Princess first and with that came a sense of pride. Being around these people was gradually beginning to soften her to the point that she would risk her life to save another, but even that had breached her limits.

Roxas conceded to Porom's words with a strained sigh, a mild sweat breaking out across his forehead. How had she not notice how exhausted he looked? Before, he had seemed so lively, so the same, but now he was reduced to a shuddering mess, barely able to lift his head. "Alright. You can leave." He wrinkled his nose, apparently struggling with what to say next, "...Sorry to have kept you."

Naminé glanced over at Porom for a moment, who smiled warmly at her, before dipping her head and turning to leave.

"Naminé?" Roxas called, his voice gruff, yet tentative.

The sound of her name passing his lips made her pause. She would never get over the way he said it. She looked back at him uncertainly. "Yes?" She asked, acutely aware that both Palom and Porom were still watching her with twin expressions of curiosity.

For the first time since she'd met him, his lips curled up into a genuine half-smile. "Thank you."

* * *

**A/N:** I CAN'T BELIEVE I MADE IT TO THE TEN CHAPTER MARK. *screeching* Ahem. I hope you all enjoyed this roller-coaster of a chapter! I struggled with it for the most part, but gosh, I enjoyed every little bump in the road.

Again, I want to thank each and every one of you for taking the time to read, review, favourite and follow this story. I appreciate it so much! The next chapter is already in the works, so hopefully it shouldn't take as long to get out there. :)

Big thanks, take care and I'll see you all next time!

_~AusisWinds-13_


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